


Bonfires in the Void

by ExcuseMeNo



Category: Warhammer 40.000, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, No Beta ATM, Nobledark, Not strictly canon for 40k, Relationships as we go, Shinsou Hitoshi Replaces Mineta Minoru, Sort Of, Tall!Ochako, quirkless au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-02-16 00:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18680482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExcuseMeNo/pseuds/ExcuseMeNo
Summary: All Izuku Midoriya wanted, from his birth on Iax, was to be an Angel. A Hero of mankind, striding forth without fear. He'd earned the right to try, but a sudden offer by his mentor figure sends him not into the traditional trials, but a mysterious and motley collection being assembled by a powerful and shadowy figure on the planet of Musutafu...





	1. Opening Movement

Brother-Aspirant Izuku calmly recited the Litany of Preparation to himself as the Aquila lander jostled and buckled in the atmosphere of Musutafu. The sky was a crimson red as the local star slowly was eclipsed by the mass of the planet, the lander slowly evening out as the transition from void to atmo finished.

"All calm back there, sir?" The cool crisp voice of the pilot crackled over the vox.

"Everything is fine, Lieutenant. My thanks for your skilled piloting." Izuku's voice was deeper than his appearance suggested, though he yet lacked the full swathe of implants that would mark him as a member of the Astartes, he was still possessed of the basic training that set him apart from the youths of his home planet.

"My pleasure, sir. We'll be at Hive Yuuei within 20 standard minutes, sir."

He made a noise of assent, and the vox fell silent once more.

 

_In the calm before battle, there is the chance to reflect_

_In reflection, there is the knowledge that comes of forethought_

_In forethought lies victory._

_My mind will know no turmoil._

_My body shall know no hesitation._

_My enemies will know no mercy._

_I am Astartes, and I shall know no fear._

 

The Litany was not 'standard' per say - nor was Izuku actually Astartes yet - but Brother-Chaplain Toshinori of the 10th Company, the _All-Might_ , had personally confided it to young Izuku on his first day of training. Such faith and attention was a heavy burden, and so was the sword that yet lay sheathed at the young man's side, on his blue chapter-dyed carapace armour.

He shook himself slightly, patting his cheeks in an old gesture he recalled his mother doing for him. Attachments were things to be discarded, said the instructors, and yet still did Brother Toshinori also say that such links to humanity would keep him strong and grounded. His mind wandered back to his purpose for being sent here.

 

* * *

 

_"Aspirant Midoriya!" The booming voice of Brother-Chaplain Toshinori rang over the training fields. Izuku looked up from his 57th set of squats, a fearful flicker of the eyes towards the Training-Master, who looked slightly surprised but not angry at the interruption._

_"Y-yes sir!"_

_"Come with me. There's a matter I feel relevant to you."_

_"Yes sir!"_

_He'd received a nod from the training-master and hurried alongside the massive figure of the Chaplain to a hab building nearby._

_"Young Midoriya, I must first congratulate you on your efforts. Though he will never say it before you, your training-master has claimed you are the star of your quadrati."_

_He couldn't help the blush, unused to the possibility of praise._

_"And so it is I come to you with...an unusual proposition. An old friend of mine has sent word he's...putting together a collection of interesting individuals, as an odd sort of group training for a purpose he confides only is of the utmost importance."_

_Izuku stared up, uncomprehending still._

_"..and I mean to forward you to him. I've spoken with Antilochus, and informed of him what details I know. He agrees that should you successfully pass whatever my friend has planned, it will count as your Trials and ensure you will earn the implants. My boy, this will let you be an Astartes."_

_He'd stared then, eyes widening as his head nodded forward so fast he thought it may have fallen off. Chaplain Toshinori let out a small chuckle._

_"I'll take that as a yes then. Very well. You'll be heading to a planet called Musutafu, in the system of the same name. it's a developing Hive World, though I use the term 'developing' loosely as always with such a world. You'll be heading to Hive Yuuei."_

_"And...who is your friend, Brother-Chaplain?"_

_The grim grin on the old marine's face was worrying enough, but the words that followed were terrifying._

_"His name is Nezu. Lord Inquisitor Nezu."_

 

* * *

And so Izuku had found himself shuttled away with the barest time to pack his belongings, including the priceless relic-blade that Toshinori had burdened him with. An Inquisitor. Even as an aspirant to the Emperor's Chosen, Izuku couldn't stop the shudder that shook through him every time he thought about it. The Inquisition was a ghost, ill-whispered and reluctantly at that in rumours. Bound by duty and charge to combat the worst the galaxy could throw at the Imperium...and the threats within the blessed ranks of humanity as well.

"5 minutes to landing, sir. You can see the spires out the port."

He pressed himself to the viewport, taking in the towering spires and endless traffic to and fro the Hive. Izuku himself was from a garden world, a positive paradise, a jewel in the Imperium's massive crown. He had never seen this sort of density, the sheer weight of humanity visible outside the lander. It was humbling and aweing in equal measure.

_This is what we fight to protect. This is what we must defend._

The sentiment filled him with purpose. He _would_ succeed at what this Nezu had planned. He _would_ become Astartes, a hero to the Imperium.

The lander shuddered to a halt, the landing ramp deploying as he stood squarely, a pack of belongings on his back and the relic-blade at his hip. He strode downwards, the slightly hot winds blowing up from the underspires buffeting him slightly. The dataslate he’d been given to access once he arrived notified him he was to make his way to the “U. A Facility Grounds” and that transport would be provided. He looked around and spotted a lone servitor standing near a gravspeeder of some civilian make. It held a sign with his name above it, and as he approached, a servo skull detached from the back and conducted a swift auspex scan.

 

“Izuku Midoriya, identity confirmed.” The mechanical voice toned out, and the servitor wordlessly put away the sign and stepped into the pilots seat of the gravspeeder. He followed suit into the passenger side, and the servitor took off, the vehicle weaving through the spires and automated cargo-traffic with an ease born only of a machine.

 

The trip was not long, but somewhat boring, so he amused himself with theories on what other sorts this Nezu would have been collecting. A keen mind was a sure sign of a good Astartes, Brother Toshinori had said, and Izuku’s tendency towards analyzing was something to be commended - though his habit of allowing it to paralyze him would have to be worked on.

 

 _There will surely be others of a martial bent. Guardsmen, almost certainly. Perhaps even Tempestus trainees? Brother Toshinori mentioned the others would be near to me in age. And there must be members of the Mechanicus as well, for it is a fool who goes into battle with the machine spirits unappeased. The administratum? The ecclesiarchy? There may even be…_ He swallowed a nervous gulp _...psykers. Be calm, Midoriya. Those who panic are lost. An Inquisitor would not gather those who were not tested and loyal._

 

The slowing of the speeder brought him back to the present, and he found himself deposited at the gates to a massive complex, stretching what seemed like kilometers in all directions. This was Inquisitor Nezu’s facilities…? His curiosity for why he and others had been gathered was only piqued as he began to stride forward...only to catch on an unexpected boundary-spike and begin to pitch forward. Instinct kicked in and he began to twist and compensate, only to find his momentum entirely halted for a moment before a gentle force righted him. He turned, and found himself looking straight into the smiling, rounded face of a brown-haired girl in silver and black armored robes, a small pitchblack stone hanging from her neck. That was an oddity, for Izuku was quite tall, even amongst his fellows.

 

“Ah! You looked as if you were about to be in a spot of trouble, and I’m afraid my keepsake...reacted. I’m sorry if that startled you.”

 

He shook his head, more curious than anything.

 

“Not at all, my thanks. That is a curious thing there.”

 

“Ah! It’s a keepsake from…someone important. She told me it was a dangerous but sacred artefact, but that she trusted me with it.”

 

That resonated with him rather strongly, as he suddenly re-felt the weight of the relic-blade at his hip.

 

“Well, then I am thankful to you and her both, it seems. You are here at the behest of Nezu as well?”

  
  
The young woman nodded, touching her fingers together in some sort of reassuring gesture.

 

“That’s correct. My canoness told me that she believed I was the best fit for the task, despite my youth and inexperience. I can’t wait to prove her faith well placed!”

 

He found himself smiling. Such cheer was infectious, and it raised his spirits merely to hear it. Then what she had said caught up, and he found himself somewhat awed.

 

“Your canoness...that means you’re a member of the Sororitas! I’m honored to be in such a presence.”

 

She blushed, and turned slightly away. “It-it’s nothing special. I’m merely a novitiate - or was. I hadn’t even finished my primary training, much less earned my armor or place. But that’s part of why I’m here!” Her fist pumped as her eyes blazed with a sudden passion. “If I can pass whatever this Nezu is planning, Canoness Yu has said it will surely be enough to allow me to take the Oath of Order!”

 

The smile had returned, twice over. Such righteous passion was an inspiration to see, and he nodded in agreement.

 

“That’s a similar story to myself actually. I-”

 

She seemed to take notice of his armour and gave a small gasp. “Oh my! You must be in Tempestus training, right? At the Schola! That’s so amazing!”

 

He shook his head somewhat shyly, not having been prepared for such a spirited if inaccurate guess.

 

“Actually...no. I’m...I was sent here by a Chaplain of my company. I’m...I’m an aspirant to the Astartes...”

 

If anything, that made her jaw drop even further. She began stammering, nearly taking a knee in reverence.

 

“I..I’m so sorry for my presumption! To be in the presence of someone chosen to be an Angel...I’m surely not worthy of this honor.”

 

“S-stand up! There’s no need for any of that. I’m..I can’t speak of it, but I’m not one yet. Like you, if I can pass..whatever this man Nezu wants, I’ll have earned my rites.”

 

She rose, though still had a slight glint in her eyes that made him unsure she had taken his re-assurances to complete heart.

 

“Well then. It seems clear that His Will at work. We’ll have to ensure we both can prove worthy of this place, and of our goals.”

 

He nodded firmly as she gave a last farewell and hurried in,and after a last deep breath, turned to begin continuing his own entrance. On his hip, unseen, eight small hidden jewels in the hilt of his blade glinted.

 

_‘Oh. I never got her name.’_

 

* * *

 

 

The complex, while massive, was well-ordered and it took them little time to be directed by servitors to what appeared to be the main gathering hall. Inside was a large mass of people already, all roughly Izuku’s age as Brother Toshinori had predicted. He looked around he found a place to sit, categorizing and analyzing those he could see.

 

_‘I was right. All stripes and types are here. I see men and women of the Guard, some officer candidates…even nobles. The symbol of the Mechanicus, obviously...and even the administratum, as I had only theorized. I wasn’t sure if such bureaucrats would be assembled here, but this Nezu must have a more wide-ranging goal than mere martial ability. And are those...rabble? Gangers or urban scum? What an odd choice to be in such company. I’ll have to make sure I’m at my best.’_

 

His eye caught a few assembled standing apart from the others, their numbers softly muttering as he did to themselves, or swaying to unfelt and unseen winds. He softly made the sign of the aquila, for their robes bore the symbol of the Astra Telepathica, and while he trusted their purpose here, they were still a danger to themselves and others should but a single moment of discipline fail. The thought that he too was dangerous if he lost control crossed his mind, and he found himself not immediately dismissing it.

 

_‘Are psykers not indicative of us all, perhaps, but merely so much more obvious in their danger?’_

 

He shook such borderline heretical thoughts from his mind, resolving to give that group the kindness of reserved judgement, a kindness quite generous already. The apparent ‘leader’ of the Telepathica’s contingent was a tired looking young man with spiky purple hair, who caught Izuku’s eye for a second as he passed and, surprisingly, simply gave a too-wide smile before turning his eyes away. Izuku shivered and turned his mind back to the other assembled masses.

 

_I see members of the navy here too. This Inquisitor is certainly drawing from a wide net._

 

What was shaping to be another deep session of analysis was cut short by the clearing of a throat, amplified a hundred times over. Up upon the stage of this meeting hall was a tall man in a simple black outfit with a truly bizarre upspiked blond hairdo, who apparently had an obscene love of hearing his own voice for he was positively surrounded by Laud-Hailers.

 

“ **HELLLLLLO ASPIRANTS OF U.A! CAN I GET A HEYA?”**

 

Dead silence filled the hall, a few clamping their ears at the sudden volume.

 

“ **NO LUck huh? Well, that’s fine. You’re all probably wondering why you’re here right? Beyond some pretty words about fulfilling your dreams or whatever.”** The man gave a cruel smirk. “ **Well let me tell you. You’re here to be tested for membership into...we’ll call them a series of task forces, under the command of Lord Inquisitor Nezu, of His Most Holy Inquisition. If you can pass our...we’ll call them** **_entrance exams_ ** **, you’ll be in. Simple as that, and you can start working towards your dreams or whatever you wanna call it while serving Mankind in the truest sense you’ll ever know. Call me ‘Mic’. I’ll be one of your examiners.”**

 

The hall was now filled with murmuring voices. Izuku found himself a tad shocked - acceptance wasn't even guaranteed? Despite a _Chaplain_ , or a _Canoness_ vouchsafing an applicant? What sort of ‘exams' were these?

 

As if diving his thoughts, a tall - though smaller than Izuku himself by half a head - rigid looking man in the armored robes of the Commisariat stood, arm upraised as if seeking permission in a schoolroom. The blond man pointed at him, eyebrow raising

 

“Commissarial Cadet Iida, Sir! May I enquire exactly what the purpose and subject of these exams will entail sir? I understand that the Holy Inquisition acts to safeguard humanity through any means, but we will surely not be required to act counter to that safeguarding in these exams, yes?”

 

Izuku caught a few rough looking types in flak armor near him muttering darkly.

 

“Fething Commissars, thinking they’re all that...s’it matter if we’re gonna be dealing dirty anyways?”

 

The tall bluette glared towards the mutterers, hand clenching at his hip by instinct

 

“Do you have something to say, fellow applicants? To my face perhaps?”

 

**“Calm down, Applicant 114. It’s a decent question. To answer it, no. We won’t make you do anything distasteful here. Exam’s pretty simple. We’re gonna toss you all in a fake warzone, and you’ve got to show you’re skilled enough to deal with the hostiles. Simple, right?”**

 

Izuku immediately thought to himself that that was _not_ simple if one happened to be a quill-pusher or scribe-counter, but the cadet - Iida - simply nodded once and sat back down.

 

 **“Well, all right then! If you’ll all file out to the right and hang a quick left down the hall, you’ll find yourself divided into various test groups. There’s some field armories out there, grab what you can in the time we give. I’d say the Emperor protects…”** The man’s eyes sharpened as he suddenly dropped the smile. **“But you’d better focus on your own skill at the moment.”** With that rather ominous parting statement, he turned and walked off the stage, the laud hailer servos following dutifully behind.

 

* * *

 

Izuku found himself assigned to test batch Delta, and dutifully made his way to the assigned testing area. Once outside, he found himself looking down into a massive urban layout, every inch the generic environment of the interior of a Hive or the clustered factory-facilities of a Forge World. It dimly reminded him of the training facilities on Parmenio, though sized and stocked for humans. He found the armory, and managed to procure what was apparently one of the limited stock of bolter weaponry present, a Locke-Pattern sized for human hands. Between that and the sword on his hip, he felt secure in his armament.

 

Spotting the friendly novitiate fretting over her own choice of weaponry, he made to approach and offer advice, only to find a firm hand clamped on his shoulder. The firm glare of the commissarial cadet that had spoken earlier washed over him.

 

“And what exactly are you doing, soldier? Planning to sabotage your fellow applicants, perhaps? I refuse to allow such underhanded tactics.”

  
  
“What? No I simply-”

 

“Excuses! I, a commissarial cadet, am trained to spot falsehood at a glance! I suggest you focus on your own…” The man looked at the boltgun in his arms, the faintest hint of disdain present “...impractical choices and reconsider-”

 

Anything else the increasingly annoying cadet was going to say was cut off as a klaxon sounded, followed by the familiar voice of the man on stage - ‘Mic’, blaring over unseen laud hailers.

 

**“Hey! Go go go! You think the enemies of mankind are gonna wait for you to be ready? GET MOVING!”**

 

Izuku wordlessly readied the boltgun and turned towards the boundaries of the testing grounds, hucking himself over with an arm and combat rolling into low ready alongside a mass of others as shadowy figures began to move in the distance.

 

_‘Time to prove myself! I can do this!’  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! The 'Entrance Exam' is next up, whenever I get to writing it. Chapter size may vary wildly based on what I can be inspired to write.
> 
> And before any 40k fans drop down my throat, yes I -know- I have not necessarily kept 'fully faithful' to lore or what X or Y person would know of various things - though I have tried to incorporate as much proper lore and such as I can, being a big fan of 40k myself. This is known as a storytelling conceit.
> 
> For 40k fans here expecting Grim Darkness, we're definitely going to see the uh, optimism and hopeful spirit of BNHA here mixed in. For those here from the BNHA side, be aware shit's gonna get a lot darker than you may be used to. This is a fusion of both, after all.
> 
> The Nobledark tag is there instead of the Grimdark tag for a reason, on both ends.


	2. Earning Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Entrance exams begin!

The moment Izuku landed, the battle had already begun. A few cackling shirtless ruffians, wearing only a few sheets of metal for armor had leapt over the barricade alongside him, and were swiftly dashing towards the figures he could see moving at the end of the faux-hab block he had landed in. Their cries of jubilation and victory were swiftly cut off in a hail of autogun rounds that spewed forth from a nearby building, one of their number jerking wildly as he fell forward. The others swiftly made it to an opposing structure and dived in, shots ringing out from either side. A few of the applicants behind him froze at the sight, obviously either not expecting live rounds, or not prepared for such a swift start to the engagement.

 

Izuku himself took a quick stock. No hostiles in his direct line of sight. Known hostiles entrenched in a building, firelines unknown. Training kicked in. Adjacent allies drawing fire, move to locate alternate entrance. The building he’d seen the fire come from had a small alley to the side of it. He jogged forward, bolter up and aimed at the window that scattered gunfire was still erupting from, and entered the side passage.

 

No hostiles were in the alley, so he moved up to a dingy looking door and checked it for a lock. He found none, and after noting that it opened inwards took a square position in front, hefted the bolter, and gave it a hearty kick right near the handle, pushing his weight into it as he leveled the bolter forward. His choice paid off as he felt the door encounter resistance behind it that was abruptly knocked aside, a lumpy figure sprawled back on the floor as his eyes adjusted to the light difference. A single round from the Locke-pattern blew a gaping hole in the figure’s torso, and he sighted and began advancing up the stairs.

 

Upstairs he encountered three more of the figures pouring fire down into the other combatants, who had largely managed to copy the scummers from before and found apparent positions to return fire. He noticed the obvious implants and crude weaponry mounted, signifying his opponents were battle-servitors. He breathed a small internal sigh of relief that he was not killing or wounding loyal humans, even in a battle-exam. Three more shots rang from the bolter, each servitor’s cranial area vanishing under the force of the explosive-tipped gyrojet ammunition.

 

“Building clear!” he called out, receiving a few scattered cheers as he mounted the shattered windowsill and tuck-rolled back onto the road, standing and observing the rest as the immediate sounds of battle ceased. Eight figures looked back, two holding minor wounds. A fierce looking redhead was liberating the stubber and its magazines from the dead man, grumbling to himself as he stood and looked at Izuku with a sharp-toothed grin.

 

“Hey schola, that was pretty fething manly right there. Guess they ain’t lying about the sort of stuff you learn there huh?”

 

Izuku gave a small grin, rubbing the back of his helmet at the sudden praise. It probably wasn't wise to correct the young man during a battle.

 

“I guess so. Are they with you?”

  
  
The redhead looked over the assembled motley collection, most of them also carrying a mix of stubbers and autoguns as well.

 

“Not like anything official but I guess so. I started yellin’ at ‘em to do stuff and they did. We’re all hivers here, biggest and toughest usually ends up in charge.” He kicked the corpse. “Or you end up dead cuz you got shit for brains. I don’t aim to be like that.” He cocked a thumb at himself.

  
“Eijiro Kirishima. Call me Kiri though. You aiming to be a hunter or a pack, schola? Bet you could do either, but I get the feelin alone means dead out here. Fethin’ _exam_.”

 

Izuku nodded. “Well met, Kiri. Call me Midoriya. You’re right. The exam is to eliminate hostiles and survive, not win glory. You’re wiser than you seem.”

 

Kiri laughed. “Call it street smarts. Glory is for pit fights, not a gang war. Lead the way schola, just don’t get us killed.”

 

Izuku nodded and together with Kiri he pushed the scummers into a loose four-sided formation as they moved up the street. The scummers muttered to each other, louder than Izuku wanted, but the distant roar and rattle of conflict was at least covering up the worst offenders

 

“So, we’re fighting cogs right? That’s a bugger. Tougher than people they are, and they don’t care about hurt.”

 

Izuku internally agreed with the man who had spoken up. Servitors were not like humans, who were prone to panic, morale issues, inaccuracy, and vulnerable to deception. A servitor located a target, followed its programming, and continued until it received new orders, completed its task, or was destroyed. What was more, these were battle-servitors and gun-servitors, which meant that unlike their lumbering menial ilk, they were capable of possessing basic tactica implants - or receiving orders from a commanding tech-priest.

 

“True. But they are vulnerable in their own way. A machine cannot adapt as a human can. It cannot think, only obey. It is with tactics, not brute strength, that we can win.”

 

His words dulled the worried murmurs that had begun, and he saw Kirishima give him a thumbs up from his side.

 

* * *

 

After about ten tense minutes, Izuku stilled, keen ears hearing distant yelling and lasfire up ahead.

 

“There’s a fight ahead. I can hear lasfire. We’ll move through that alley there and see what’s going on.”

 

“You heard the schola slaught-for-brains, let’s go!”

 

The impromptu squad moved through the rather spacious side corridors, and as they turned a corner they were witness to several of the servitors being cut down by focused flashes from one side of the street they’d opened into. A rough platoon of Guardsmen had assembled together, sandbags and detritus piled up to create ad-hoc defensive positions. Giving apparent orders was a foppish-looking blond man in a still-immaculate officer’s uniform, though Izuku noticed that a man in tempestus carapace on the side of the blockade was the one the rank and file were actually following the shot-lead on. The hivers gave up a cry as they finished off the few  servitors left in the assault, taken by surprise by the sudden arrival of Izuku’s squad.

 

“Well, friendlies huh? Thanks for the sudden arrival gents.” The stormtrooper spoke up, black of hair, tall and lanky with a wide grin. “Think we had it mostly handled but more reinforcements is never a bad thing. You in charge there, green hair?”

 

Izuku cast his eyes at Kirishima, who simply shrugged and gave a ‘you sort of are’ look back. He nodded at the smiling black-haired man.

 

“I suppose I am. What of it? Are you in need of aid?”

  
  
“No. We’ve got this position secured. That was the third wave of them, and it’s getting easier each time. As long as the ammo lasts, we can hold out. There’s only one charge-station within our perimeter though, so maybe not as long as we’d like speaking frankly. We’re going to move in towards that tower over there. Our cog-boy thinks it has an emplacement in it, and at the very least it’s high up, so a vantage point.”

 

As if summoned, another tall figure, this one clad in the red robes of mars, with a telltale mechanical tail-arm - a mechandendrite, Izuku recalled the name of the implant was - stood straight and approached.

  
  
“Enginseer Ojiro, at your service. My compatriot is correct, the tower almost certainly has some sort of weapons emplacement. My auspex shows a steady power draw to the top, matching patterns for a lascannon of some make.”

 

His voice was reedy, but not fully mechanical. Izuku caught a flash of an unaugmented jaw and a single black-pupiled eye under the hood of the robed uniform.

 

“Ahem! What are you all speaking of without me?” The officer had finally extricated himself from the defensive line and was quickly approaching. Sero let out a small sigh.

 

“Green hair, allow me to introduce -”

 

“Lieutenant Yuga Aoyoma, of the Praetorian Guard. I must say, what’s all this? Making plans without the proper authorization of the ranking officer? Bad show, Sero. Bad show indeed.”

 

Izuku withheld his own snort.

 

“Call me Midoriya. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintances, Lt. Aoyoma, Sero? Enginseer Ojiro.”

 

The techpriest waved his mechadendrite dismissively. “Call me Ojiro. I have no time for rank.”

 

Sero nodded. “Same here.”

 

Aoyoma huffed. “Well, _I_ think rank is very much important. Now, are we going to follow my plan and head to the tower with the likely emplacement or not?”

 

Izuku caught Sero mocking the fop’s stature and body language from behind and willed his discipline not to make a reaction. Eventually Sero calmed down and spoke up, now the very picture of professionalism.

 

“Yes sir, that’s what we’re discussing now with Midoriya here. He and his irregulars would be a force multiplier, especially with that Locke-pattern.”

 

Kirishima coughed slightly. “I uh, don’t think that’s the best idea. Us roughers, we’re not gonna play nice. No offense, schola.”

 

Izuku shook his head. “No, you’re probably right. Sero, me and mine will head up and to the right, search for a path forward and skirt the side of the tower. We may even draw attention off of you. In exchange, when you take it…”

 

Sero finished the thought. “...we’ll use any emplacements, or at least the vantage, to cover your positions and then follow your wake."

 

“Exactly.”

 

All assembled nodded after a moment, the wisdom of the plan evident. Aoyoma gave a grin that would have not looked out of place on a recruitment poster.

 

“Then until we meet again, good chap! My thanks for distracting the enemy. Tally ho lads! Chop chop, let’s away!”

 

Sero simply shook his head and began barking at the others to get moving. Ojiro had vanished somewhere in the crowd. Izuku looked over his ragtag group and silently began moving up the road, Kirishima following closely behind.

 

“You think they’ll follow through, schola?”

  
  
“The praetorian seems honorable at least, and the stormtrooper is sensible enough to ‘give’ after a ‘take’, as it were.”

 

“That’s another thing I’m coming to like about you schola, you always see the best in folks. Manly, that is.”

 

* * *

 

The streets had once more been eerily quiet as Izuku and his squad moved from alley to alley, doing their best to keep off the main roads. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but every step forward he took felt like it was leading badly. Nonetheless, he swallowed the feeling and channeled it into observing every which way he could. If he was walking into an ambush, he could at least try and turn the table.

 

As they entered a mockup of a manufactoria, Izuku held up a hand and the rabble’s movement slowed to a crawl.

 

“You feelin’ it too schola?” Kirishima’s whispered voice at his ear made him nod grimly.

 

“Yes. We’re not alone. Good instinct, Kiri.”

 

“Saved my life more than a few-”

 

His words were cut off by a piercing panicked scream from the back of the squad. Both men whirled around to see a blurred figure dragging a shrieking hiver into the dark gloom of the rafters. Immediately the others lit the area up, autoguns barking as the irregular heavy boom of a hand cannon went off, the noise amplified by the enclosed quarters.

 

“Fething warp, you idiots stop! Stop! You’re just wasting ammo!” Kiri’s yelled admonishment was at length heeded, as Izuku carefully aimed the bolter up at the rafters, cursing his decision not to attach an illuminator onto it.

 

“Did we get it?” one of the rabble asked.

  
“Had to have. We poured a whole bucket into the thing. Poor Jax though.”

 

“Eh, he took my sis for a ride once. Bastard had it comin’.”

 

Izuku dearly wished they’d stop talking, and Kirishima felt the same way, slapping one of the offenders over the ear.

 

“Shut up, juicehead! It ain’t dead if we ain’t see a body!”

 

There was a thump to the side. By natural human instinct, the other six hivers turned as a group towards the sound. A human torso and head, limbs brutally ripped off lay on the ground, the very much deceased face of the unfortunate Jax staring upwards. By sheer luck, Izuku was looking behind and his eyes widened as he noticed movement once more.

 

“Look out!”

 

The warning was useless however, the same blur slamming into the loose group of hivers with a vengeance. Screams and wails sounded out as gunfire was turned inwards, Izuku and Kirishima diving behind a piece of machinery to avoid sudden friendly fire. Kirishima turned to Izuku wildeyed, pointing at a nearby doorway deeper into the manufactoria.

 

“We need to go, schola!”

 

“They need our help!”

 

“They’re dead men! If not from whatever the warp that thing is, from their own guns! We need to _go!_ ”

 

Izuku’s face grit in guilty conflict, but pragmatism won out. The sounds of panicked battle were already beginning to lessen as the hivers died. He double timed it alongside the redhead into the doorway and up a flight of stairs into a scribe office of some sort. Kirishima slammed a cabinet over the doorway as Izuku did the same to the other side, the two taking a back to back position, guns up at each blockade.

 

“Fething bloody exams, fething...monsters!”

 

“Calm yourself, Kirishima. Else we’ll end up like our fellows.”

 

“Idiots, the lot of them. Ugh. I’m gonna...” Kirishima wiped his eye, and Izuku couldn’t help the small smile. The ganger was obviously more caring than he let on.

 

“We can avenge them. Our foe is a hunter. It cannot resist our bait. But this time..”

 

“..we’re fething ready for it.”

 

He nodded, turning back to aim down his bolter’s sights carefully, and waited.

 

* * *

 

The tension was, perhaps, the worst part of a counter-ambush. Your foe knew you were there, and you knew he was there, and both sides were as cautious as a wounded grox. Worse yet, despite his encouraging words to the red haired hiver, Izuku knew they held the disadvantage here. Their enemy was an implacable machine, and almost certainly tougher than he or Kirishima. He carefully recited the Litany of Preparation once more to himself. He heard Kirishima give a whispered “I’ll owe you one so just get me out of this, Throne on Terra”, and he could not find it in himself to rebuke the casual, almost irreverent prayer.

 

A grate from above dropped, and instinct took over as the blurred figure slammed onto Kirishima’s back. Bolter fire roared, chunks of the thing’s back exploding as it howled a long painful screech, doing its best to drag Kirishima up into the grate. To his credit, the hiver was slamming a sharp piece of metal into its face, screaming his own epithets and mad howls of rage and defiance. Izuku reached out with a free hand off the bolter at the thing’s leg and _yanked_ as hard as he could, the damage he’d inflicted with the burst of fire doing it’s job as it unbalanced and fell to the ground with another screech, Kirishima rolling away and slamming the cabinet down on it with manic strength.

 

“Kill it kill it KILL IT!”

 

Izuku needed no encouragement, emptying the rest of his magazine into it, microexplosions blossoming over its body as at length it fell silent with a final juddering spasm, chunks of its body blown away from the sustained volley.

 

In the silence that followed, Kirishima gave a shuddering laugh and kicked the figure viciously, rolling the cabinet off it to take a closer look.

 

“What...the _fething_ throne on terra was that thing?”

 

Izuku knelt down, examining the horrific thing’s metallic skull-face and scything blade-limbs. It was obviously a servitor of some kind - he refused to countenance that even an Inquisitorial test would involve xenos horrors - but every inch of it appeared dedicated to the slaughter and murder of living beings.

 

“I do not know. But it is dead, and we are not.”

 

“Well, you’re damn right about that.”

 

“Are you wounded?”

 

Kirishima shook his head.

 

“It got some cuts off when it grabbed me, but nothing I’ve not walked off before. And if it’s poisoned well, I’ll know soon enough.”

 

Izuku snorted at the rather simple way of viewing problems, but nodded all the same.

 

“Then we should make our way out and forward. The plan to regroup with stormtrooper Sero and his group is well shot now. We’ll have to focus on surviving over conflict.”

 

“Unless we run into another group we can convince to follow us.”

 

“Indeed, though this far into the test I would think such bands have already formed.”

 

The redhead spit as the two made their way out of the building.

 

“You’re right, a’course. People are always gonna gang up soon as they can.”

 

“You sound as if you don’t approve.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, gangs is how I’ve lived. But I ain’t want to just sit around leading my guys vs their guys and all that. S’why I’m here, schola. I got more to my life than hive turf wars.”

 

Izuku clapped the other man on the back approvingly.

 

“Well said, Kiri. I am glad to have met you in this test. The Emperor smiles on us both. Please, I insist, call me Midoriya, or Izuku.”

 

“Yeah well, you ain’t too bad either...Midoriya...maybe He is. Where we gonna go?”

  
  
Izuku hummed in thought. “I saw what looked similar to a Militarum armory as we began, but also a space port. Either would be a populated and well held position.”

 

“Armory’s just gonna be a slaughterfest. I can guarantee you people are fighting over the goodies inside. Port’s my bet.”

 

“Very well. It was due east of where we are now. I recall that well.”

 

“Well grox shit, you’re just manlier and manlier you know that? No wonder they sent you here.”

 

Izuku smiled. “I suppose so. Let’s get going.”

 

“Yeah. I’ve had enough of this place.”

 

* * *

 

The journey towards the spaceport was blessedly empty, the two men much more able to use stealth and guile to move unseen through the streets. As they went, signs of battle were apparent most everywhere, destroyed servitors and unfortunate battle casualties of the other applicants littering the streets at times. As the spaceport came into view, Izuku and Kirishima found themselves staring down the barrels of several lasrifles out of a makeshift guard post.

  
  
“Put those rifles down, those are obviously not servitors!”

  
  
Izuku recognized that voice, and his face lit up as, sure enough, the no-nonsense visage of the brown-haired novitiate woman appeared, carrying a hefty looking flamer. Her own face brightened as she saw him, and beckoned them both inside.

 

“Oh, but of course you’d have survived and made it here. Ah, and well met sir.” She gave a small bow to Kirishima, who looked stunned at the gesture and awkwardly raised a hand back.

 

“Sup. Uh, you know the schola here?” Kirishima asked, jabbing a finger at Izuku.

  
  
“The schola? But -” She noticed his expression and blessedly and smoothly altered the words in her throat. “-of course. We met at the gate entrance. I’m not surprised he made it this far. And who are you?”

  
  
“Uh, Eijiro. Kirishima! Kiri! Call me Kiri.”

 

She smiled beatifically.

 

“Well met, Kiri. I am Ochako Uraraka.”

 

 _‘What a pretty name’_  Izuku mentally slapped himself and stepped forward.

 

“I never gave you mine, actually, Ms Uraraka. Izuku Midoriya.”

 

She beamed again. “Call me Ochako, Sir Midoriya.”

 

“Only if you call me Izuku then.”

  
  
“A deal it is. Do you need ammunition? There’s a stockpile. We’re fairly secure here, luckily. A few groups have trickled in and reinforced us.”

  
  
Izuku took the time as she showed them around to notice her robes had been shredded revealing her own set of heavy flak armor, painted silver and black. It wasn't as covering as his carapace armour, but it certainly seemed to have better protection than the standard guardsman’s kit. He noticed Sero lounging around cleaning his rifle in the distance, and gave a wave as the man looked up and waved back.

 

“... so in any event, I think staying here is the best bet and everyone else seems to agree, even that commissar cadet.”

 

Izuku groaned a bit inside knowing that Iida was here, but put it aside. ‘ _In a battle, all who are loyal are allies.’_

 

“And that’s the uh, tour as it is. We’re really just putting down any servitor bands that approach, but we haven’t had any in a while. So maybe the test will be over soon?” Ochako had looped them back around to the courtyard, and Kirishima nodded at her words.

 

“Sure hope so. Seen enough shit already.”

 

Izuku wasn't so sure. Once more his instinct was telling him something was coming, and after the experience in the manufactoria he was less willing to let it remain silent.

 

“I’m going to patrol the perimeter. As a new arrival, it's only fitting I contribute.”

 

Kirishima gave him a thumbs up and a grin and Ochako nodded.

 

“My thanks then. I’ll be inside helping tend to the wounded.”

 

A distant dull thud sounded and Izuku’s head whipped around. The feeling in his gut worsened as he gripped the bolter tighter and began making his way to the western perimeter with more urgency.

 

“Izuku? What’s wro-”

 

The west guardpost exploded, vaporized in a sudden horrific sharp crack of energy. Izuku ducked as shrapnel and debris went flying, screams and shouts of alarm erupting across the spaceport. A large, menacing shape rounded a street corner in the distance, and Izuku swore a silent oath to the Emperor at the sight.

 

It appeared at first glance to be a great bipedal walker, one arm a revving monster of a chainsword, the other a long smoking cannon of some sort. Izuku’s first terrified thought was that it was a god-machine of legend, some unstoppable force sent to crush their hopes and dreams in fire and flame. But then he noticed the size. Brother Toshinori had once spoke of fighting alongside the god-machines, the Titans of myth, and his reckoning was that even the smallest of those mighty lords of war towered over building and marine alike. This foe was perhaps 'merely' twice the size of the veteran-brothers interred in dreadnaughts that he had glimpsed at a parade once. And whatever this was, it was advancing on the port with a grim shuddering mien.

 

“Get back! Get back! Get into the port!” He yelled at the remaining defenders of the western wall, who needed no encouragement to obey. The foe raised the cannon once more, aiming it at the port’s main doors. Another flash, another small sun erupted, and the entryway was now a smoldering slagged ruin. The screams grew louder. From the corner of his eyes, Izuku saw Ochako on the ground, hissing in pain at her leg, which looked to have taken a nasty burn. Kirishima was at her side, trying to drag her from out under some rubble. The few remaining people outside were taking the barest potshots at the beast as they tried to get into the port however they could. Everywhere he looked was chaos and confusion, despair setting in. A few guardsmen, lead by a short ugly looking man with short purple hair charged passed him, blindly trying to run past the walker after it had fired to escape. An almost contemptuous looking motion saw a secondary heavy stubber under the main cannon scythe them apart.

 

 _There will be no escape_ , the mighty thing seemed to say as it stood, awaiting its main cannon once more. _You cannot run._

 

Izuku felt a strange calm pass through him as he stopped running towards Ochako. Even if he reached her and got the rubble off, they could not outrun such firepower. He turned, and began walking back towards the enemy.

 

“Midoriya! What on Terra are you doing! Run!” Kirishima’s cries seemed to dim in his ears as a memory flashed before him, of the last thing Brother Toshinori had said before he left.

 

* * *

 

_“Young Midoriya! I have a parting gift for you.”_

 

_The aspirant turned, confusion on his features as the looming figure of the Chaplain in full regalia strode up to him as he waited for the lander to arrive._

 

_“Yes, Brother-chaplain?”_

  
_  
“No need to be so formal. It’s just us, young one.” Toshinori knelt and ruffled his hair, smiling._

 

_“I...Alright, Toshinori. What is it?”_

  
_  
“Ha! So eager. One day you’ll recognize the gift in the calm. But until you do,” The blonde giant held out a scabbard and gently placed it in Izuku’s hands “then take this.”_

 

_He stared. He had seen this before, at Toshinori’s hip during formal ceremonies where he had caught sight of the ‘All-Might’_

 

_“But! This is..this is yours! I’m not worthy of this honor!”_

 

_“Nonsense. You’re right of course, it’s mine. It isn’t the chapter’s. It’s MY blade. And I’m giving it to you for use in your trials.”_

 

_“But...why?”_

  
  
_A coy smile had graced Toshinori’s face._

 

_“Because I think you are worthy. Now, and forever. And because I have another!” He laughed. “Not quite as nice, but acceptable. That one’s yours”_

 

_He’d nodded, unable to refuse such an enormous honor._

 

_“What...what is its name?” Surely such a blade had a name, like all such treasures did._

 

_“Well noted, ” Toshinori’s voice had grown solemn, reverential. “This blade represents an unbroken line of wielders, each who dedicated their life to the defense of others. Of their brothers, of their men, of Humanity. It was given to me by my mentor, who received it from hers, who received it from his, and so on. It has not always been wielded by Astartes either, for my mentor was but a mortal and yet she was worthy to carry it. Its name is One For All. And now, I pass it to you. Will you accept this charge, Izuku Midoriya?”_

 

_He couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched the blade to him like his life depended on it._

 

_“Yes. Yes! I swear, Brother Toshinori. I will be worthy of this blade.”_

 

_“Good lad. Now, something to note. The blade is pure and sanctified to be sure, but its machine spirit is proud and has a bit of a temperament. Never draw it unless you are defending others, or if you believe your very soul to be in danger, do you understand. If you try, it may just decide not to let you._

 

_“I understand, Toshinori.”_

  
_  
“Very good. Now go on. Make me proud, young Midoriya. Become worthy of the blade AND of earning your implants. I’ll be waiting.”_

 

* * *

 

Izuku’s heartbeat calmed. He wasn’t sure if he was going to die here, but he would gladly die a hundred times over before he allowed those he had fought alongside, who he had come to know perish. His very core straightened as he walked, alone, before the walker. His hand trembled around the hilt, and with a single motion, he drew the blade.

 

Strength infused him. It was if he was Astartes already, strong and guided of hand and arm. The thrum of a power field activating filled his ears, and the hilt warmed in his hand. The walker took notice of him approaching, and...it lowered the cannon, raising the massive chainblade in a sort of salute.

 

There were no words. None were needed. Izuku gripped the blade in both hands and ran, as the walker shifted and lowered in a massive under-to-over swipe. Izuku leapt, and in a single mighty overhand swing, One For All met the walker’s blade. The noise was incredible, and every inch of his body felt as if it would shake apart from the shuddering motion of the shrieking howling chainblade meeting the monomolecular edge of the powerfield, the sheer weight and power of the machine’s weapon resisting the relic-blade. Izuku screamed, screamed and screamed and screamed as he pushed every last ounce he had into the strike, willing himself even as he felt his body begin to give out.

 

**_NO! I WILL NOT FALTER! YOU! WILL! FALL!_ **

 

And then the chain failed. Izuku felt himself shear through the blade as if hot butter, slamming into the chest of the mighty walker and stabbing down, still screaming as it slowly, ponderously slammed back into the ground on its back, and the whine of its engine sputtered out as it powered down.

 

Izuku fell off the side, barely remembering to rip his blade up and out, deactivating and sheathing it with almost herculean effort as he began tottering, one agonizing step at a time, back towards the port. Every step was agony, every movement pain. He felt as if he’d shouldered the weight of an entire Leman Russ on his back for miles. His last sight before passing out were two figures, one with bright red hair and the other wearing silver and black reaching for him as he passed into blissful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap! For those not familiar with 40k lore, a Stubber (what Kirishima had as a weapon and what killed Mineta) is a machine gun. an Autogun is an assault rifle.
> 
> Next time - aftermath of the entrance exams, and the dorms.
> 
> Til later!


	3. Meet the Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku wakes up, has some conversations, and meets his 'class'mates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, two things here.
> 
> First: Content Warning: Discrimination
> 
> I put that there to be safe, as in 40k human supremacy is pretty ingrained. I don't think I went overt here, but I wanted to ensure people who don't know 40k know ahead of time.
> 
> Second: I will generally from now on use last names in the japanese fashion when in 3rd party narrative, with dialogue switching based on personality and such. That said, I do sometimes use first names in 3rd party narrative simply because i feel its the name the fandom will know the character by better. As someone who can notice that sort of stuff myself sometimes, I apologize if that's confusing.

When Izuku awoke, the dim ceiling of a medicae infirmary greeted him. The mysterious beeps and noises of advanced meditek equipment surrounded him, and as he slowly sat up, a vague blob resolved itself into the bustling figure of an elderly woman in the uniform of the Order Hospitaller - a dark red robe with a bone-white cross firmly displayed on the chest, her head-habit doing nothing to hide the long string of chaplet-beads around her neck.

 

His movement must have alerted something in the medical equipment, as she turned as he rose.

 

“Finally awake, are you? Faster than I had expected, but something tells me I shouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Her voice was weary from age, but held a firm core behind it. If she was anything like the stories of the hospitallers Izuku had heard, he pitied any recalcitrant patient of hers.

 

“I...how long was I…” His throat felt scratchy and thick, and he let a long hacking cough that resulted in a red-black lump expelling itself out. The woman tsked and gingerly picked it up with a pair of gloves, tossing it in a waste container then offering him a glass of water as she waved a handheld auspex over his throat and chest.

 

“Drink. That should be the last of the internal bleeding out...A pity you don’t actually have any implants in, eh child? Emperor knows it’s all that’s saved Toshinori’s life before…”

 

“You know Chaplain Toshinori?!” The words had escaped before he could truly think, the sudden volume and force doing nothing for his throat. He hurriedly gulped down the glass of water as a small blush found its way to his face. “My apologies for the outburst, sister…”

 

The woman laughed, a kindly sound that helped remove the embarrassment he felt.

 

“Shuzenji, child. Call me sister Chiyo though. I’m too old for formality anymore, not when I can already distinctly sense I’ll be seeing you around often. And yes, I’m quite acquainted with the good chaplain. We’ve...worked together before. I’m also aware he’s the one that recommended you. Call it a benefit of my position here!” She put a hand to her chest proudly, “You’re speaking to the chief chirurgeon of the U.A facility after all! Kyahaha!” She finished waving the auspex over him and stepped forward, helping him out of the bed he’d been laying in.

 

“There we go. Fit for His service once more!”

 

“My deepest thanks, sister Chiyo. I’m honored to have seen treatment from such an honored figure..” His thanks were cut off with a simple wave from the hospitaller.

 

“Nonsense. You took on _Wrath Enshrined_ and not only lived, but rattled it too. For that sight alone, I’ll treat you without complaint! Ah, and don’t worry your dutiful head over it either. Knight Ishiyama was...most enthused at your bravery and skill.”

 

Izuku allowed a weight he hadn’t known he was holding loose. A Knight Imperialis was a treasured and holy artifact of His Wrath, and the damage he’d done couldn’t have been easy to repair, to say nothing of the anger the Knight within might have felt. Though that merely raised another question.

 

“Ah, sister Chiyo? Forgive me if this is overmuch, but _why_? Surely I cannot be more valuable than such a mighty war machine.”

 

She gave a small coy smile, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“U.A, and its patron Lord Nezu, are not at all what you may expect. So long as you do your utmost to be a faithful servant of the Imperium, many things considered beyond the pale may well be overlooked. Trust in His Will leading you here...and in Toshinori, for believing you could handle it.”

 

He nodded firmly, content that that was all he’d be getting for now.

 

“I’d rather die than fail Toshinori, or Him on Terra.”

 

“Good lad. Now! As I saying, you’ve chosen a particularly good time to wake up. They’re announcing who made the cut today. You’ve been out the last three days, so you’ve avoided most of the nerve-wracking anxiety that the others like to encourage. I don’t know if you passed of course, but you’ll at least get to find out. Center atrium, where Hizashi gave you all your introduction. Now go on, collect your gear and get out of my medicae.”

 

She turned and resumed her cleaning work, a polite but clear dismissal. He gathered his gear and, lacking anywhere to store it, donned it with practiced haste and left the medicae, searching for and attaining directions from a passing servitor. The medicae area seemed full and busy, a necessary consequence of what must have been multiple full battle-exams he supposed.

 

* * *

 

As he walked, part of what sister Chiyo had said passed through his mind again. They were announcing who had passed the exam. That meant that mere survival, as the man with the laud-hailers - Hizashi, or ‘Mic’ as he’d wanted to be called - had implied was not merely enough. While no exam could ever truly compare to the test of mettle that was a real battle against the enemies of mankind, the exam had also been a live fire test that had included a Knight Imperialis as a foe, if perhaps not one intended to be _defeated_. The more and more Izuku thought about it, the stranger this ‘exam’ became. A man could be called a veteran merely for surviving it, and yet it was not enough to earn him passage. Men and women of all fields of the Imperium had been gathered here, for a test that surely only a few were directly suited to dealing with. What was the purpose here?

 

His mind could not come up with a good answer, and so Izuku let the matter settle for later. No good came of over-thinking, only paralysis and death. The growing noise of a crowd alerted him he was near his destination, and he entered the hall to find a mass of people standing at lines before several servitors, each of whom was monotonously reciting some sort of result or score to each in turn. Izuku dutifully stood in a line and waited until it was his turn to step forward. A servo-arm ran an auspex over him and then the machine spoke.

 

“Applicant Midoriya, Izuku. Survival status: Injured, unable to leave under own power. 5 points. Battle-Prowess: 25 points. Tactica-Prowess: 15 points. Required score: 60 points.”

 

His heart sank slightly, though he understood. Flashes of the skull-faced servitor scything through his squad of hivers passed through his mind, as did the utter destruction the Knight had wrought before he had faced it. These were his failings, and he accepted them. He hoped that Ochako and Kiri had made it. But then the servitor spoke again, instead of moving on to the next.

 

“Addendum: Extra-ordinary courage in the face of overwhelming opposition. 15 points. Unflinching duty in the service of his comrades. 20 points. Hidden objective completion: 40 points. Total applicant score: 120 points. Applicant pass.”

 

And just like that his heart was in orbit. He’d done it. He hadn’t failed Toshinori after all. He fairly stumbled out of the line through the passage marked for successful applicants, taking deep breaths to calm his sudden elation. After a few steadying breaths, he took a look around to see who else had made it.

 

His eyes fell over substantially fewer folks than he’d seen in the atrium, but a shock of red hair gave him another shot of joy, and he approached.

 

“...Won’t lie I was about ready to wet myself waiting, you know? These grox-fuckers sure know how to - Schola!”

 

Kirishima had noticed his approach and gave him a wide honest smile, clapping him on the shoulder as he did the same to the slightly smaller man.

 

“Can’t say I’m surprised man. After that crazy you pulled, they’d have to be blind. Hey, turns out one of my old underhive buddies made it in. Check it out girl, this is that crazy ass schola I told you about.”

 

Kirishima waved a hand at the figure he’d been talking to, and Izuku carefully suppressed the slight flinch he’d otherwise have had due to Kiri mentioning ‘underhive’. Standing tall and surprisingly proud in a set of hive leathers and a light cloak was a pink-skinned woman with unnerving sclera and a small pair of...something out of her forehead. A mutant, though a very human one, so perhaps she was classified as Abhuman instead? If the ogryn were acceptable...Izuku shook his head. What mattered was that she had been accepted by the exam and thus by Nezu, which meant she was about as safe as she could expect to be.

 

“A pleasure to meet you…”

 

“Mina! Mina Ashido if you’re fancy, but no one calls me that. Kiri here tells me you’re the reason he’s alive. If that’s the case, I gotta give you credit, you’re nicer than I’d have been!” The laugh that both she and Kiri shared served to prevent izuku from taking offence at her callous-sounding words.

 

“It’s good to meet a friend of Kiri, certainly. I don’t think _I_ would have survived if not for him either.”

 

Kirishima snorted. “Grox shit. You’d have just found some other group and took the lead.”

 

“Maybe, but I found you and yours, and so here we are. I cannot say I would wish for anyone else.”

 

Kirishima actually looked a bit bashful at that, and Ashido smiled wider and clapped both men on the shoulder.

 

“Aww, manly bonding is so cute! Hey hey, did you guys get given your dorms assignment yet?”

 

The two shared a look and shook their heads.

 

“Not me. There’s dorms?”

 

Izuku hummed in thought. “It makes sense thinking about it. Are you sure its ‘dorms’ and not ‘barracks’ though, Mina?”

 

“Positive. I caught a glimpse of em walking over here from the _actual_ barracks they had us cooped in til now. Swanky stuff.” She pointed at a few servitors on the west end of the open air field they were all in. “That’s where we get assigned. One of the admin drones told me as I was walking over.”

 

“Let’s go then. Maybe we’ll be in the same place yeah?” Kiri began walking over, and Izuku followed, Ashido trailing besides the red-head as well.

 

“As if you could get rid of me that easily, hornhair~”

 

“W-whoa, I thought we agreed to more nicknames now…”

 

“Embarrassed cuz your hero might hear it? Don’t think it’s _manly_ enough?”

 

“Sssshut it!”

 

The two began playfully bickering as Izuku gave a small smile and approached the servitors, who made no motion to acknowledge him and his companions but spoke up all the same.

 

“Midoriya, Izuku. Assigned group 1-A. Kirishima, Eijirou. Assigned group 1-A. Ashido, Mina. Assigned group 1-A.”

 

The three blinked for a moment, and Kirishima gave a small fist pump.

 

“Yeah! We _did_ all get in the same batch! Manly!”

 

Izuku smiled as well, glad he had at least one friend with him.

 

“Oh! Izuku!”

 

He turned, and the smile only grew. Uraraka had spotted him, obviously having passed as well, and was approaching him. The smile dimmed a slight bit at noticing the rude commissarial cadet behind her, but he gave both a small bow anyways.

 

“Ochako! I’m glad to see you’re recovered - and that you passed.”

 

“Never mind me, it’s YOU that’s the problem here! What were you _thinking_ , facing off against that...monster!”

 

She’d marched right up to him and was jabbing a finger in his chest. Someone giggled behind him. He simply gave a solemn look down at the novitiate.

 

“I was thinking that I could not have born the shame of living at the cost of you and Kirishima’s lives, to say nothing of the rest of those inside the ‘port. I was thinking that better I, who at least had the potential means to damage it, face the threat and buy you all time.”

 

Silence reigned for a moment, before it was broken by the sound of sniffling from behind him.

 

“I told you. Manliest guy I’ve ever met!”

 

That broke the spell, with Uraraka sighing and nodding in acquiescence as Ashido dealt with the openly sniffling Kirishima. What surprised him was that the cadet - Tenya Iida, he recalled - suddenly bowed nearly horizontally at him.

 

“Midoriya! Please, accept my sincerest apologies! I gravely misjudged you and your intent, only to be shown exactly the meaning of courage under fire!”

 

Izuku blinked, and Uraraka let out a soft laugh. Mina gave a slightly less kinder sounding one as well.

 

“I...stand straight, Iida. There’s no shame in acting as you’ve been trained. As a commissar, you’ve been told to always lookout for cowardice right? So you were just using that training.”

 

Iida stood back up, and shook his head.

 

“Be that as it may, I was also told by my instructor to expect things to be different here, and I relied too much on my teaching and not enough on my own instincts. I shall do better in future! Oh, and please, call me Tenya.”

 

Iida then noticed both Kirishima and Ashido, and for a moment his jaw tightened, before he simply gave a rueful smile.

 

“You see, Midoriya? Already am I shown by His will that I must learn. We overheard you all assigned to group 1-A, the same as myself and sister Uraraka here. I cannot allow what I have been told of abhumans to stain my views on a future fellow soldier! Instead, I must see for myself.”

 

“Well, that’s the nicest way I’ve ever been told ‘I won’t shoot you for who you are’, so..points for that. Tenya, was it?”

 

“That is my name. And, if I am honest, you are not the most...trying individual I have seen so far.”

 

Iida’s brow darkened as he leaned in to the group that had formed.

 

“I have seen xenos amongst us. While His most Holy Inquisition is allowed whatever means needed to serve humanity it is…still a shock, even if those I have seen at least display a mark of sanctioning.”

 

Ashido and Uraraka both gave small gasps, and even Izuku couldn’t stop the tensing of his jaw. Iida was right, it was one thing to serve alongside abhumans, particularly if they did not stray too far from humanity’s holy form, but to countenance and work with Xenos was a much more difficult thing to accept. It was Izuku who broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

 

“If that is the Lord Inquisitor’s will, than as faithful servants of the Imperium all we can do is accept it as perhaps a trial to be born.”

 

Uraraka nodded after a moment. “I...I agree. The Lord Inquisitor would not have threats to mankind wandering freely, so surely those xenos here have for whatever unknowable reason accepted their place as rightful servants of humanity.”

 

Kirishima rubbed his jaw in heavy thought. “Way I see it, if the big boss thinks they’re worth not putting down, they gotta have something about them. And it’d mean they passed the test same as us right?”

 

Iida gave a small hand chop towards them, nodding his head.

 

“Excellent viewpoints! I agree. And, by placing them amongst us, he ensures that they are under scrutiny in case of well-hidden perfidy - though as they bear a mark of sanctioning, then they have been deemed acceptable by the inquisition itself, and far be it from us to gainsay such a decision. Perhaps this is but another test of our ability to deal with life in the service of the Inquisition, as well.”

 

“That would make sense. Hidden purposes in all things, that’s what my canoness said when I asked what to expect.” Uraraka spoke up, just as Ashido huffed and clapped her hands.

 

“Right! Well, nothing gained just standing here overheating our brains over it. Let’s go check out our dorms!”

 

The mood lightened, and together as a loose group they nodded their agreement and made their way out of the gathering yard.

 

* * *

 

The feeling of having friends, or at least good companions, was both an unfamiliar and warming experience to Izuku. While he had his cohort back during aspirant training, there was a slight distance there, an expectation that any could die during the brutal trials. After the grueling trial that was the exam, he was quite sure he could count Kirishima as a friend, and he hoped and suspected the same of Uraraka. Iida and Ashido he did not know as well, but the commissar seemed earnest in his desire to make amends, and Ashido was trusted by Kirishima, both of which were factors that made Izuku willing to tentatively extend the same grace.

 

The walk to the 1-A dorm was filled with idle chatter between the five of them, as they took the time to learn a bit about each other. Kirishima and Ashido, it transpired, had grown up in the same general block of the underhive of Yuuei, and had known each other since their early teens. Uraraka revealed she was quite talented at cooking, being the only one of her convent class able to touch the kitchen without burning something. Iida took the surprising step of admitting he was from a long line of commissars dating back centuries, and that choosing the assignment to U.A had caused some concern amongst his family of the path he was taking.

 

So it was that Izuku admitted the truth of his training to them, causing the reactions he had quietly predicted each would show. Kirishima and Ashido both nearly tripped over themselves, but had obviously only heard legends of what a Marine was. Iida had very nearly broken down entirely, begging forgiveness and punishment in equal measure for ‘showing such blatant disrespect for one of His Angels’, which Izuku was quick to reassure him was not needed, though he noticed Iida standing even straighter afterwards, as if to try and prove his worth in standing at Izuku’s side.

 

Finally, they reached the dorm building, and he had to admit Ashido was correct about the ‘swank’ of it. Even the outside seemed to indicate a level of luxury Izuku had never truly seen before. Kirishima let out a whistle.

 

“Throne Mina, you weren't kidding. They’re letting _us_ stay in _that_?”

  
  
Iida gave a small huff. “I would hope luxury won’t cloud your mind, Kirishima.”

 

“Pfft, if anything I’m gonna work harder to keep my ass here.”

 

Uraraka gave a small thumbs up at that. “That’s the spirit!”

 

“Enough chatter, let’s go meet our crew!” Ashido enthusiastically pushed the door open, beckoning the rest inside.

 

What had appeared luxurious outside was nothing compared to the inside. Chambers fit for a noble greeted them, opulent and comfortable lounges and chairs, with a small open-bar of sorts visible and several vox and vidscreens arrayed around. They were also not the first there, and in fact appeared to be amongst if not the last of 1-A to arrive.

 

Izuku’s trained eyes swiftly took in the other occupants. He recognized the stormtrooper, praetorian and enginseer from the exams - Sero, Aoyama and Ojiro his mind supplied. Sero and Aoyama were sat at a table alongside a massive hulk of a man in thick coats, an orange-haired woman with a long side ponytail, and a smaller woman with unblinking eyes and long black hair, the five playing a card game of some sort. Sero looked up as the doors opened and gave a wide grin and a wave to Izuku that he returned as his eyes kept wandering.

 

Ojiro was standing nearish a collection of the vidscreens next to a slightly shorter member of the mechanicus that, of what Izuku could see, was substantially less augmented than the enginseer, but who possessed two smaller versions of the nearly-trademark mechanical limbs jutting out of the sides of her hood, apparently attached around her ears. The two techpriests were emitting short blasts of a harsh buzzing noise that Izuku assumed was the language of their kind.

 

He also noticed the purple-haired man with the blindfold from the entrance speech standing in a corner, quietly murmuring to a blonde man with an odd black streak in his hair, both wearing robes bearing the symbol of the Telepathica that marked them as psykers of some sort, though the blonde man’s robes seemed stiffer or more armored than the blindfolded man.

 

Ashido and Kirishima had broken off as he’d scanned the room, both heading towards...a large man with four arms? Another of their underhive friends most likely, he thought, and right about on the verge of what qualified as abhuman versus mutant at that. A part their group but not quite as warmly congratulatory was a woman leaning against the wall dressed in all black form-fitting leather, her entire body concealed by its form, even her head in a hooded mask.

 

The next that caught his eye were two noble-looking figures sat in some of the armchairs a distance away from anyone else, one a well-dressed woman of obviously noble lineage, long black hair tied in a fanciful ponytail. Across from her was a man in the polished uniform of the imperial navy, with oddly two-toned hair, white and red both.

 

The last were the hardest to accept, even despite the conversation he’d had earlier that now came to mind. A strange blue-skinned figure, noseless and dressed in disturbingly fine robes with a strange wide-brimmed hat was in another corner, next to some sort of bipedal avian dressed in leathers, who was also looking over the assembled crowd, though for some strange xenos purpose Izuku could not define. Neither of the xenos seemed armed, and it was that fact and his own words from earlier that settled his instincts and allowed him to relax.

 

Only to realize that the entire room had gone silent at his entrance. Sero broke the silence, giving a small cheer.

 

“Well, there’s the hero himself! Looking pretty hale for a man that dueled a Knight, gotta say Midoriya.”

 

“Wait, that was real? I thought you were groxin’ us!” The orange haired woman piped up.

 

“Ah...uh, yes. I did. Duel it, I guess. I was just trying to keep everyone safe…”

 

That set the room abuzz as everyone seemed to try and speak at once.

 

“Now I owe him 50 gelt! Throne damn it, seriously?”

 

“An impossible feat. Knights are capable of eliminating entire companies on their own, as single enemy is trivial. Can you confirm, enginseer?”

 

“Sending augfeed now transmechanic. I almost doubted my own augments, but he in fact defeated such a holy machine.”

 

“You see? I was not wrong.”

 

“No. He shines as brightly as you say.”

 

Izuku was feeling a touch overwhelmed as he became the sudden center of attention, but luckily the noblewoman stood and managed to clear her throat in a way that got everyone’s attention.

 

“Ahem! If you all might stop acting like excited children, perhaps proper introductions can finally proceed. If our...erstwhile hero might like to go first?”

 

Izuku nodded, slowly taking a seat next to Uraraka as everyone, even the xenos, moved into a loose semicircle in the spacious commons.

 

“I’ll go last, actually. It doesn't seem right to seem like I’m bragging.”

 

The noble nodded and simply pointed at Uraraka, who gave a friendly wave.

 

“Hi! I’m Ochako Uraraka, novitiate of the Order of the Argent Shroud.”

 

“An honor to have a member of the Sororitas here.” The noble spoke up, seemingly taking the position of group leader for the time. She pointed to Iida next, establishing the pattern around the group that would be taken.

 

“Tenya Iida! Commissarial cadet, from the schola on Kalidos. A pleasure to meet you all!”

 

Sero spoke next. “Hanta Sero, Ninth Kasrkin. Be good working with ya.”

 

“Tsuyu Asui. Sergeant with the Tanith first and only. Call me Tsu.”

 

Izuku was quietly taking notes on a small dataslate.

 

"Yuga Aoyama, Lieutenant of the 23rd Praetorian Guard! it is an honor to serve alongside all of you lovely fellows."

 

“Rikidou Satou! 597th Valhallan. Is good to be with other infantry - and rest of you too!”

 

“Itsuka Kendou, from the 41st Elysians. If you need someone to talk to, I’m told I’m a good listener~”

 

“Mashirao Ojiro, Enginseer formerly with the 17th Cadian.”

 

“Kyouka Jirou, Transmechanic formerly aboard Lathe-class cruiser _Omnissiah’s Eye_.”

 

Izuku made a mental note to ask either of them what the difference of their titles were.

 

There was a small pause, before the purple-haired psyker gave a small laugh.

 

“Ah yes, me next. Shinsou Hitoshi, Astropath. It is...enlightening to meet you all.”

 

The other psyker piped up nearly before Shinsou was finished.

 

“Denki...Kaminari. Psyker Primaris. Here to help destroy His enemies.”

 

It was the four-armed friend of Kirishima’s next, but the man seemed fairly uncomfortable. Kirishima gave him a comforting pat on the back and he finally spoke up, barely above a whisper.

 

“Mezou Shoji. From hive Yuuei.”

 

There was a slightly awkward pause, and then after a thumbs up from Ashido he continued.

 

“...I’m good with chainblades.”

 

“Knew ya could do it buddy! Alright, name’s Eijirou Kirishima, but you guys can call me Kiri, it’s easier. I’m like my buddy here, local born from Yuuei. I’m also pretty good with a chainsword, but I’m also a fan of stubbers.”

 

Ashido piped up next with a two handed wave at the rest.

 

“Mina Ashido, rounding out the hivers here! Unlike these louts, I prefer being a distance away from all the trouble. Just give me a rifle, and your problems are solved one by one!” She finished with a wink and a sort of finger-gun motion at the next, which was the all-black leather woman.

 

“Hrmm. I don’t usually give my name, but since everyone else has...Tooru Hagakure. I used to be a member of the Night Whisperers, but they’re...no longer with us, so here I am. I’m good with knives.”

 

Ashido laughed. “For those of you offworlders, the Whisperers were a crazy-scary bunch of assassin types that up and vanished like, 2 years ago? Tooru here’s never told us why.”

 

“Some things are best left unsaid, especially considering the fate of heretics.”

 

That somewhat put a halt to that line of questioning, despite Izuku’s burning desire to ask more. After another pause, the noblewoman that had started this all spoke.

 

“Well! I’m rather tame compared to all that excitement. I am Momo Yaoyorozu, of the Yaoyorozu dynasty of rogue traders. It is certainly a unique pleasure to meet all of you.”

 

A rogue trader scion? That would explain why she seemed so comfortable amongst everyone, Izuku thought.

 

The man with the two-toned hair spoke next, and spoke simply.

 

“Shouto Todoroki. From Battlefleet Gothic.”

 

He said nothing else, and so finally it was the xenos’ turn to speak. No one seemed to be making overtly hostile moves and so after a last brief pause to clear his throat the blue-skinned one spoke up in accented gothic with a strangely gentle cadence that, Izuku thought, was perhaps aimed to instil a sense of non hostility.

 

“I am Por’ui Dal’yth Koji’koda, though as that is a long and perhaps overly-complicated title for you all, ‘Koji Koda’’ appears to work well. I am...pleased to be amongst you all, and I must admit my thanks that you have not defaulted to violence.”

 

He gestured to the avian besides him, who grunted.

 

“Fumik Toko. Fumik’age To’koyami, if we are using ‘proper’ names.’ He - Izuku thought it was a he at least - shot a look at ‘Koji’, who simply smiled.

 

“Well. That is all of us...save you, sir ‘hero’.” Momo spoke with another small smile at him. He sighed, and hoped this would not go over as he feared it would.

 

“As we agreed, yes. I am Izuku Midoriya, from Iax...I am, you might call it a ‘trainee’ for...for the Ultramarines.”

 

Luckily, no one began grovelling or anything like what Iida had tried to do, but the dead silence and the open jaws of the ‘Guard group’ as Izuku had labeled them rather spoke for itself.

 

“Ah. That would explain defeating a Knight then.” That was the transmechanic, Kyouka.

 

“A trainee? They take trainees? I thought they were like...like...”

 

“Like angels. That’s why everyone calls them angels of death.”

 

Itsuka and Tsuyu were murmuring furiously to each other.

 

“Could _we_ become angels too?” Satou spoke up, eyes shining.

 

“NO! I mean...no. The process is...I c-can’t talk about it. It’s...sacred. But I can tell you that no one here would be accepted. N-not because you’re not good enough. Just...you couldn’t.”

 

Izuku mentally cursed, his childhood stutter re-appearing from the sudden spike of anxiety he felt. It was only natural that the others would want what he was striving for, and now he had to crush their sudden dreams. He prepared himself for harsh looks and jealousy as he looked back up, but found nothing of the sort. In fact, everyone seemed fairly understanding. Rikido was nodding thoughtfully.

 

“Is dangerous then. And very secret. No no! I understand. Is not for mortals to dare for. Am honored to be in presence of one so chosen.”

 

“Tell me about it. That’s amazing, Midoriya.” Itsuka had finally stopped whispering to Tsuyu and was giving him a warm look and a thumbs up. The others made general noises of agreement, even ‘Koda’, after Fumik had gutturally explained something in their shared xenos tongue.

 

“I agree. It is an incredible honor to count you as one of our number, sir Midoriya.” Momo spoke after most had settled down, giving him a short bow.

 

“Please, everyone, call me Izuku if you can. I don’t want any special treatment. We are all here to serve the Imperium, and I am no greater a servant than any of you, even if I was fully an Ultramarine.”

 

“Well spoken. I think it’s safe to adjourn back to what we were doing for the evening. We’re due to have an instructor or such arrive tomorrow for our first organized day of...whatever we shall be doing here, so I think it wise if we watch the chrono carefully.” Momo stood and stretched slightly after speaking. “I myself am going to head to the kitchenette area and see what passes for food here, if anyone cares to join.”

 

The arranged circle gradually broke up as people began assembling back into smaller social groups, though Izuku noted it was no longer entirely segregated by previous affiliation anymore. Uraraka nudged him, still seat on the lounge next to him.

 

“Going to join in? I could handle some food myself.”

 

“In a bit, I need a bit to...well, relax.”

 

“I understand. I think it’s good you told everyone though. Better to face it all now than after months of deceit.”

 

He nodded and relaxed back into the entirely-too-comfortable lounge as Uraraka stood and headed after Momo. It was not a group he would ever have thought could possibly work together. Xenos and abhumans notwithstanding, the fact that army and navy was here, noble scions and hivers both, people from all over the Imperium. And yet, he thought, perhaps they just might be able to with a bit of work.

 

It was his new home, and he’d die before he let it fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That went way longer than I expected but I hope everyone enjoyed it yo.


	4. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku gets to know a few of 1-A a bit better on their first day of 'class'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emperor, this ran away from me but I couldn't bear to remove the conversation bits at the start. Hope you all enjoy!

Despite the minor feelings of guilt it invoked, Izuku did not end up really socializing that much with anyone else that evening. The lounge was eminently comfortable and he caught himself dozing off several times before deciding that a few quick rations and an early rest would help him better than pushing himself through the night while still somewhat recovering.

 

His room, he found, was as comparatively opulent as the common area had been. A full size bed large enough for two of himself took up a corner, and there was a generous desk with attached micro-cogitator that would not have looked out of place in the office of a naval officer, or lesser patrician back on Iax. As was his custom he spent an hour or so typing up reports on his fellow group mates, small informal affairs that mostly consisted at the moment of their names, prior associations, and general thoughts on their attitudes and demeanor. He noted to himself as he shut the cogitator down that the longest one so far was Uraraka's. Friendly, forgiving, and possessed of an unwavering spirit, he found his mind concentrating on her.

 

Izuku had had little time for women growing up, and women had had little time for him. He had been a comparative runt until his twelfth year, when he had thrown himself into the hellish training regimen that was required to even be selected as an aspirant, and once he had started training there was no time for distractions. Even so, he had not failed to realize that every woman in his group could be considered quite attractive, with the relative possible exception of Jirou given the circumstances. That said, there was something about Uraraka. She glowed with faith and courage. Perhaps it was due to her being a member of the Sororitas, bolstered by the fact he had not seen any of the others in the heat of combat, where the true soul of both men and women was tried and tested.

 

He shook his head, banishing the matter from his thoughts. It was unseemly and insulting to reduce any of his fellows to their gender and appearance, as if such things mattered compared to the fact they all served the Imperium to the best of their abilities. He stripped and washed himself - and wasn’t that an absolute indulgence, a personal washroom all to himself - and slipped into the bed, allowing himself a moment of luxuriation at the quality of the sheets and comforter before falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day saw him rise at dawn, as the first meager rays of Musutafu’s star entered the viewing window of his quarters. He rose and dressed in simple fatigues, heading down to the kitchenette for a hearty breakfast before his morning exercise.

 

He was not the first one down, to his mild surprise. Satou and Kendou were sat munching through a large shared plate of oven-fried bread topped with a variety of condiments. Tsuyu was in the middle of frying something that smelled sweet and hearty, and Aoyama and Sero were finishing up a plate of some sort of sausage. As he entered, Sero and Kendou both gave a small wave, drawing the other’s attentions to him.

 

“Heya Izuku. Another early riser?” Sero spoke, swallowing his mouthful of sausage.

 

“Not surprised. Astartes must train harder than we do, if anything you might expect him up earlier.” Kendou sidled to the side to allow him a place to sit, which he took gratefully.

 

“Normally I would be, but I suppose I’m still recovering from the battle-exam. You all get up at the same time, despite your different regiments?”

  
  
Satou gave a small shrug, the movement oddly gentle for such a mountain of a man. “Some things always same. Like curfew and rise time.”

 

“Not always the same. Kriegers are up two hours earlier than anyone else and always the last ones on watch too.” Tsuyu had finished her cooking, depositing a group-sized plate of a hash-mix down that the rest dived into with gusto. Izuku took a hearty portion and a few of the sausages as well.

 

“Sure, but kriegers are…kriegers.” Kendou countered, then gave an apologetic look at Izuku. “Ah, the Death Corps of Krieg, is who we mean. They’re...intense.”

 

“Damn good chaps to have alongside you though.” Aoyama spoke up, dabbing his face with a napkin as he gingerly reached for the last of the sausages, deftly out-maneuvering Sero’s hasty attempt to spear it.

 

“If you can stop them from demanding you fix bayonets and charge in after them. Absolutely crazy.” Sero scowled slightly at Aoyama’s victory in the sausage skirmish, but took an extra heaping of the hash instead. “And that’s not going into how they all look the same.”

 

“The same? Don’t all guardsmen have the same uniform?” Izuku asked between bites of his breakfast.

 

“Yes and no. Everyone within a regiment is supposed to wear the same uniform, but different regiments can be vastly different. Look at lieutenant Aoyama and me for instance,” Kendou spoke up again.“Praetorians and Elysians have completely different looks, but me and Sero would look similar in field kit, amount of armor aside. I’ve never met a Valhallan or a Tanith before though so I can’t speak for them.”

 

Satou shrugged, and Tsuyu didn’t even look up from her single minded consumption.

 

“Normally have much thicker coat. Is hot here though!”

 

“Tanith wears what we need. Darker green though for parade.”

 

Sero nodded sagely as they spoke. “Back to the point, kriegers all wear the exact same brown fatigues, black coat, and bloody gasmask. Even their officers. It’s eerie.”

 

Izuku hummed in acknowledgement. “But I’ve heard they’re deathly loyal, right?”

 

“Oh absolutely. I’ve never seen a krieg line break. Ever. I don’t think they know what retreat _means_.”

 

“That’s the problem sometimes. My old CO used to tell stories about krieg detachments threatening us for pulling back, even though our specialty is high impact low presence strikes.” Kendou supplied.

 

“I’ve seen it happen. Krieger commissars aren’t there for morale. They’re there to stop the kriegers from being too much for others to deal with.” Tsuyu spoke again, her plate nearly empty already.

 

That was an interesting fact if true, Izuku thought. Wanting to keep the budding camaraderie going, he spoke again.

 

“I’m planning on conducting some exercises before we report to our primary instructor for the day. Are you interested in joining me?”

 

They all smiled.

 

“Getting to conduct morning PT with someone in training to become an angel of death? Sign me the feth up.”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world old chap.”

 

“I’m in.”

 

“I’m honored, Izuku.”

 

“Of course, friend!”

 

* * *

 

“What... _are_ you, Midoriya?”

 

Aoyama was kneeling on the ground, wheezing heavily. Kendou and Tsuyu were standing, but nearly doubled over, gulping in air greedily. Satou was both laughing and clutching his side at the same time, each boisterous guffaw sounding distinctly pained.

 

“What...that all you guys got? Come on...we can keep going…”

 

Sero was at least fully standing, though his long steady breathes betrayed his fatigue as well as he looked over his fellows. Izuku himself had worked up a good sweat, but paused and suddenly held his hands up in apology.

 

“Ah! I’m terribly sorry. I got carried away in my desire to make up for the days in the medicae…”

 

Tsuyu managed to stand straight at length, more through effort than recovery it seemed.

 

“As long as that wasn't normal even for you, I can accept that.”

 

Sero let out another laugh, having moved over to help Aoyama stand up.

 

“Looks like we all needed the PT, eh? Think what our COs would say if they saw us wheezing like this.”

 

Izuku had a brief memory of Training-Master Mnemoch and shivered. The assembled guardsmen let out a few chuckles at the statement as well, working together to get each other up and able to stand fully.

 

“Everyone able to at least walk, maybe light jog? We should get back and freshen up. Midoriya, you don’t mind if we break off do you? You look a lot less uh, winded.”

 

He shook his head at the Kasrkin. “I’ll be fine. Get a bit more to eat perhaps, restock your energy. I’ll see you back in the commons.”

 

They each nodded and set back off at a very light jog, Sero barking some sort of cadence to get them in rhythm. Izuku smiled at the sight, happy that at least a small section of his group was so easily able to work together. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, taking a long deep breath as he set off at a walking pace behind them. They had by his reckoning another hour or so before the group as a whole was supposed to report in. Upon reaching the dorms, he indulged in another quick shower and headed back down to the commons, this time spotting Ojiro and Jirou.

 

The two techpriests were examining the meal area with undisguised interest, touching and prodding at various components. They turned as one when he entered, giving him a polite nod each.

 

“Midoriya. Did you just wake?”

 

“Ah, no. I was out with the guardsmen doing some exercise. I’ve been up a while.”

 

Ojiro nodded, grabbing some of the still-warm hash and shoveling it up to his hooded face. Izuku watched in undisguised curiosity, only for Jirou to give a short burst of static drawing his attention.

 

“Do you often watch others eat, Midoriya?”

 

“No! I’m sorry. I just wasn’t sure if…” He blushed at the sudden awkwardness, “...I apologize, Ojiro.”

 

He waved it off. “No need for that. I can understand the intention. The fact I even eat at all is perhaps an oddity, though one the transmechanic here shares.”

 

Jirou gave another burst of static, this one sounding distinctly embarrassed. “I have not yet been granted the benediction of replacing that level of flesh yet, no.”

 

“It is not as problematic as it seems, Jirou. It helps facilitate morale with others. Eating is a human need, if a flesh-bound one.”

 

Jirou gave a slow nod, and carefully began eating as well. Izuku politely did not stare at their faces as they did so. After a moment, he became aware of a very faint low hum in the air. It hadn’t been there earlier, and the more he listened the more localized it seemed. It did not have the threatening whine of a plasma weapon, nor the heavy strum of an antigrav engine. It sounded almost harmonic.

 

“Are you two...communicating with each other?”

 

They both started slightly, sharing a look before Jirou answered.

 

“We are, in fact. Noospheric communication. Was that a guess?”

 

“No. I heard a very faint hum that wasn’t here earlier and didn’t sound like an engine or a weapon, so I thought perhaps it was you two.”

 

She looked faintly impressed. “Your ears are certainly superior to the standard organic model. Noospheric communication can sometimes involve audible emissions, though it is very rare to meet someone who is not of the Mechanicus who can hear it.”

 

“It is likely a result of his training with the Astartes. They are superior to humans in all ways, after all.” Ojiro spoke up, both techpriests examining him now.

 

“That would be logical. Theory has merit.”

 

Izuku gave a small nervous laugh. “Well, I’m still just a human though…”

 

“An extraordinary specimen however. Take pride, Midoriya. Your flesh, while still weak, is not as compromised and fallible as the average man.”

 

“Thank you, I think. I’m jealous though.”

 

Jirou nodded, a touch smugly. “Of course you are. Augmentation is naturally superior.”

 

“That isn’t what I meant. It’s that you two can always be in touch with each other. You’re never alone, or cut off. You can always have someone there to compare ideas or tactics with. I think that’s incredible.”

 

That seemed to catch them off guard, and a small silence descended. Izuku heard the hum again and allowed them their silent speech. Finally, Ojiro broke the silence, his voice strangely soft.

 

“Thank you for your words. We take such things for granted, gifted by the Omnissiah as we are, and few outsiders care to query or consider the marvel that He grants us.”

 

Jirou said nothing but simply nodded her agreement, her mechadendrites waving softly.

 

Izuku’s chrono gave a soft chime and he stood.

 

“That’s the reminder I set. We should be reporting in soon. Do you know if everyone else is awake?”

 

“I saw the xenos wander past shortly before you arrived, and the naval officer after that.”

 

“The hiver group was also active in the commons area, noisily so.”

 

“That leaves the two psykers, the novitiate, the commissar and the rogue trader unaccounted for. Shall we utilize the vox?”

 

Izuku paused, then nodded. One of Jirou’s cranial mechadendrites extended out, far longer than Izuku would have thought it capable of, and connected to a small vox.

 

“Midoriya wishes to inform you all that the time to report in is quickly approaching. Head to the commons area if you are not already on your way to the assigned instruction area.”

 

Her voice echoed faintly from the other vox-stations in the building, and Izuku caught the sound of two sets of running feet.

 

“Oh throne, how shameful. To have almost slept in on the first day!”

 

That was Momo, who rounded the corner in a slightly simpler outfit than she’d worn the previous evening. Uraraka jogged down the stairs shortly after, beaming as she hurried over and scarfed down a portion of the communal meal.

 

“You aren’t late yet, Lady Yaoyorozu. I had my chrono alert me 20 minutes beforehand so that I could gather everyone if need be.”

 

She waved a hand in polite dismissal. “Please, Izuku. There’s no need for formality. I’ve had enough of that from my childhood.”

 

“As you wish, Momo. Ochako, it’s good to see you up as well.”

 

“I was finishing morning prayers when I heard the vox. Good timing. We should get going!”

 

“We should. Everyone else is either awake and about, or we must simply trust they will not shame us. I for one am interested in seeing what the day will bring” Momo spoke up, having somehow managed to eat both daintily _and_ quickly, as she stood. Izuku nodded in agreement, already on his way to the door.

 

* * *

  


They encountered Kirishima and the other hivers on the way, as well as Todoroki and the guard contingent. As they arrived at the large door labeled 1-A and filed in, Izuku noticed the psykers and xenos were already present, silently staring at each other. Iida was also already present, gritting his teeth slightly as he looked between the two groups. He spotted the assembled others and gave a short sigh of relief.

 

“Midoriya! Uraraka! And others. It is good to see you all prompt.”

 

“Likewise, Tenya.”

 

Izuku looked around the room everyone had entered. It was set up similar to a classroom from his youth, chairs and desks arrayed in even distances all directed towards a central podium, with both a datascreen and a physical board behind it. It seemed that the ‘instruction’ part of U.A was being taken seriously, if a touch oddly. Everyone took a desk, Izuku noting that the arrangement ended up surprisingly egalitarian. He had expected that everyone would clump together with those familiar or similar. Taking his own seat, he found himself to the left of Sero, in front of Shinsou and behind Kendou.

 

There was an air of confused expectation as they awaited their instructor. It was obvious that everyone had been expecting something more military in nature, and even more obvious that Kirishima, Ashido and the other hive-raised had never seen an arrangement like this in their lives.

 

“I’m not sure how my squaddies would react if I told them my big secret re-assignment was sitting in a schola-room.” Sero piped up, a general murmur of agreement spreading.

 

“Though reassuring in nature, I find myself surprised as well. Perhaps it is for being taught from the tactica?” Iida responded.

 

“Half of us could probably recite it verbatim by this point, or have something better to fall back on.”

 

“...some sort of Inquisitorial tactica?”

 

“A guide to fight monsters, as it were.” That was the soft, raspy voice of Shinsou from behind Izuku. Sero raised a finger and then slowly pointed it at the astropath.

 

“Thaaaat makes a lot of sense thinking on it.”

 

“It’s obvious we are not here to learn how to fight as soldiers. The alternative to all this would be to throw us at whatever assignments we are given blind and expect us to somehow survive and complete it, which is madness.” Momo huffed from her position behind Shinsou.

 

The door slammed open.

 

“You’d be _surprised_ at what other little fire and fury types do with their peons, you know.”

 

The female figure that walked in was perhaps the most disturbing thing Izuku had ever seen. It was not hideous however, if anything it was the exact opposite. Long pale limbs attached to a statuesque body and delicate carved features, with pointed ears and a vile, smug smirk on its face, jet black hair done up in a long constrained ponytail kept together with a long spike of bone. It was like looking at a doll someone had made and crafted all _too_ perfectly, the movements inhumanly smooth and calculated, the features so perfectly aligned as to elicit feelings of revulsion. What little clothing it wore on its chest served only to remain modest, large holes exposing more flesh, its leggings similarly littered with exposed sections, thigh high heels and wicked looking spikes along the arm guards completing the ensemble.

 

Izuku even knew what it was.

 

“Aeldari.” The word was uttered not only by him but by Momo and Sero as well. Sero had likely fought them before perhaps, and Momo may well have met one given her birthright.

 

The smirk shattered, replaced by bared teeth in a rictus sneer.

 

“ _Drukhari_ , mon’keigh, and I will warn you only once to remember the difference.”

 

The xenos woman took a pose behind the podium, leering down at the gritted teeth and blank faces of the group.

 

“Why ever the faces, darlings? _Class_ is in session! Shouldn’t you all be so happy to be alive and present? You’re all such wonderful little new toys, I’m sure.” The smile vanished, a terrifying apathy replacing it through the insistent aura of sadism never went away. “Not that I care. I’m here to put you all through your paces to make sure you’re _actually_ worthy of being here. I don’t care if you survived and passed the first test.”

 

The smile returned. “You will refer to me as Midnight, because my actual name is both an honor you do not deserve and would be mangled by your attempt anyways. And before any of you start with the same tired rhetoric exhorting my painful and violent death, take a moment to actually use the sorry excuses for brains you possess and consider why I, a ‘filthy xenos’, am allowed not only to be present but to _teach_ you.”

 

There was a long pause, and at length Momo spoke up.

 

“Because you are sanctioned, and because you have something of value to teach us.”

 

Midnight gave a small coo at her.

 

“Very good, both the incredibly obvious answer _and_ one that actually took some thinking. Perhaps you won’t disappoint me entirely.”

 

A serrated whip appeared in her hand and she cracked it a few times.

 

“Now! Out to training yard four. We’re going to do some field drills as you mon’keigh call them. Normally a different…'teacher’ would be here, but he was delayed. Lucky you, yes?”

 

Based on the expression adorning the others as they trudged out, Izuku thought that was an incredibly inaccurate way to describe the situation.

 

* * *

 

Training yard four was set up into a series of various physical examinations, Izuku observed as they arrived. He spotted a variety of them, long jump, a track for sprints, what appeared to be some sort of bizarre obstacle course. There was also a firing range with a variety of weaponry and target distances, and finally a circular sparring pit.

 

“Listen once and listen carefully. You will each test yourself at these various stations. I will review your results and make a judgement on each. I promise you all I shall judge fairly...for mon’keigh results at least.”

 

Midnight gave another irritatingly perfect sneer.

 

“The last test will be a spar against myself. Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to _beat_ me or any such impossible thing. Simply a test to see how long you last.”

 

He spotted a few looking nervous at that, particularly those like Koda and Jirou, who seemed less aligned towards purely martial abilities. Midnight’s sneer grew wider.

 

“Oh yes and by the way, the person who I deem to have the lowest score will be removed from the task force, and I shall lay claim to them...personally.”

 

That brought a round of squawking righteous anger from the group.

 

“You can’t do that!”

 

“Who gives you the authority-”

 

“We passed that exam! We’ve earned the right to-”

 

_“Silence.”_

 

The word was spoken with such sudden vitriolic hate that everyone stilled.

 

“What gives me the _right_ ? Who gives me the _authority_ ? I am part of Nezu’s little band for all that you mewling _pathetic_ pieces of mon’keigh garbage might wish otherwise. I act with _his_ authority, as does every other instructor at this entire facility. Any one of us can deem you unfit to be here at a moment’s whim. _Do not test me_.”

 

The whip was back, lashing the air beside her. Her face was contorted in a hateful grimace, a disturbing mix of alien perfection and utter revulsion.

 

“The battle exam means _nothing_ . Any whimpering fool can hide in the skirts of his betters to survive. Any child can pick up one of your toy guns and kill with it. You are _acolytes_ of your oh so vaunted Inquisition now. You will face sights that break and shatter the minds of those far and away your betters, and you will be expected to succeed against them. Do you understand, you mewling infants?”

 

There was utter silence for a moment, and then realization, understanding, and shame at having to be reminded by a xenos of these facts filled the faces of 1-A. After a few moments, Izuku could take it no longer and stood straight, facing the Drukhari head on.

 

“Your words are harsh, but fair. If you would test us, then throw whatever you wish at us. You will not find me, or anyone else here wanting. I am sure of that.”

 

She strode forward, matching his height and stuck a long wickedly sharp nailed finger under his chin. He carefully did not shudder at the feeling of this twisted xenos touching him.

 

“Are you sure? Are you positive you can afford such faith?”

 

He held firm.

 

“I am.”

 

“Verrry good. I may just one day come to give you a single iota of respect.”

  
  
She turned to the rest of the group, a cruel smirk firmly back in place.

 

“New rule. If any of the _rest_ of you fail, he is the one I shall claim for my own, and you can all forever know that the fault lay with yourselves for failing his belief in you.”

 

He grit his teeth and met the eyes of every last one of them. To their credit, none looked away, grim determination suffusing them as he swept his gaze over them. He understood at heart that this was merely a fervent and admirable desire to not fail a fellow human in the face of a xenos, not any actual loyalty to him in particular, but he could not stop the slight smile on his face all the same.

 

“Get to it! Alphabetical order, starting at the long jump!”

 

\---

 

The training lasted an entire afternoon, each member of the class obviously putting as much as they could into it. Kendou scored highest for the long jump, nearly clearing the entire thing in an astounding display of acrobatics. Satou took the lead on the grip test and Tsuyu and Fumik tied for scaling the obstacle course, Fumik’s strange avian biology giving him an edge but Tsuyu’s own apparent regimental training allowing her to keep up.

 

Kirishima won the sprint, followed shortly by Mina. No one truly excelled at the odd side jump, though Kendou showed surprising dexterity at the task. Izuku himself outlasted the rest at the endurance run, though both Ojiro and Jirou were admirably second and third, their augmented physiology assisting them.

 

Kaminari and Shinsou were both separately tested at psychic potential a fair distance away from everyone else for safety, Denki incinerating a training dummy with projected lightning while Shinsou’s test produced nothing of observable effect, but met Midnight’s apparent standard all the same.

 

Sero, Uraraka, Mina and Fumik seemed determined to outdo each other on the firing range. Sero handily outshone the rest with both autogun and lasgun, but Mina took the lead at marksmanship with a lasrifle. Fumik was using some strange primitive slug rifle that he seemed very familiar with, and while he could not match Mina’s shot output, he beat her at pure accuracy to her slight chagrin. Uraraka meanwhile was handling a flamer with unerring grace and aplomb, though Satou of all people was the unmatched champion at handling other types of heavy weaponry. Only Izuku managed anything of note with the selection of bolt weaponry available, though everyone took up every type of weapon at least once to test themselves with.

 

At length, the time came for the ‘endurance duels’ with Midnight.

 

Todoroki was up first, displaying an elegant classic sabre-style that managed roughly a minute and twenty seconds against Midnight. The initial wave of disheartened whispers were silenced by her announcement that that was ‘passable’, followed by a stinging criticism of the ‘bland and formulaic’ nature of the naval scion’s form, which he bore with a quiet stoicism, stalking out of the ring and giving Izuku a glare as if daring him to complain at his effort. Izuku merely shook his head and tried to give a smile, though the other man seemed to ignore it.

 

Kirishima and Shoji were next, both utilizing a savage wild style that played to their strengths - Kirishima used a two handed grip on his chainsword while Shoji held four chainblades, two in reverse grip. Kirishima managed to the minute mark through a surprising skill at parrying, and Shoji managed similar through the extra utility his arms afforded. Izuku noted that the faint advice Midnight had deigned to give the abhuman about his embracing of his mutation seemed to bolster the large silent man.

 

Most of the rest used fairly standard imperial forms or wild desperate swings and were taken out within thirty seconds, though none were met with the dreaded ‘fail’ announcement and merely were berated with admonitions against unthinking adherence to a style. Uraraka finally was up, holding a chainsword in a one handed style, and managed one minute thirty, mostly by being willing to take small scrapes to allow herself solid blade clashes as Midnight parried each and every swing.

 

“Not the worst strategy for you mon’keigh if you have the armor for it, I suppose. Pass. At least you showed creativity.”

 

That had been the highest praise Midnight had given anyone, and Izuku laid a reassuring hand on Uraraka’s shoulder as she bandaged herself.

 

“Oh! Izuku. I’m sorry I couldn’t-”

 

“You lasted the longest of anyone so far, Ochako. I could not ask for more. If anything, I should apologize for forcing you all to perform past your limits for my own sake.”

 

“Don’t! Don’t say that. As if any of us are going to let that...that _xenos_ filth have her way.” Uraraka looked murderous.

 

“Like I said. I have faith in you. In all of you.”

 

She made the sign of the aquila, which he copied.

 

“Then I can do nothing but also have faith.”

 

Momo was up, and after her only Izuku would be left. She took to the pit with a thin rapier and slid into an oddly fragile looking stance. Midnight looked highly amused.

 

“Oh my, what’s this? Have you been a naughty little mon’keigh and learned something from a xenos? Of course, perhaps your teacher was the naughty one here. Who would imagine a corsair would deign to teach their style to a mon’keigh? Your father must be _very_ influential. I’m not sure whether to praise you for the boldness or bury you for the audacity, little girl.”

 

Momo said nothing, narrowing her eyes, and Midnight rolled her own in response.

 

“Oh very well, be boring. Let’s see if you can match the dance, mon’keigh.”

 

The two leapt at each other in a way Izuku could only describe as a dance, Momo’s thin blade flashing to deflect and catch the hooked daggers that her opponent favored. Their movements sped up slowly until, with a start, he realized two entire minutes had passed. Midnight seemed to have realized it too, for her eyes narrowed.

 

“Enough playing. Try and keep up.”

 

There was a blur, and Momo was on the ground, both daggers poised directly at her throat as the other woman sat on her chest, legs pinning her to the ground. After far too long a moment for his own liking, Midnight stood, whirling her daggers into their sheaths.

 

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed you managed this long or insulted you dared try and even emulate that style at all. I’ll settle on giving you a pass. I’d be careful who you show that too though. Not all my sisters or cousins will take so cavalierly to you using it.”

 

Momo stood with a low growl.

 

“I’ll be sure to remember that, _instructor_.”

 

“Be sure that you do. Now…”

 

Her eyes turned to him, gleaming in a cruel joy.

 

“The final piece, as it were. Come come. Time to test your own words, boy.”

 

Sero, Kirishima and Kendou - the closest to him - each reached out to clap his back, the others giving nods of encouragement as he stepped forward, his hand gripping the sword he’d found that was closest to One For All in weight - he dared not use the sacred blade for a mere test.

 

“Ah ah ah. Put that away. Let’s see how you fight as a _man_ hmm?”

 

“Oi oi, you let us all have a weapon!” That was Mina, loud as ever.

 

“And I’m deciding that he can fight me as purely as a mon’keigh can. I’m sure he can manage, can’t you sir knightslayer?”

 

She let out a soft mocking laugh, eyes filled with a cruel joy he was coming to hate. It was obvious she was toying with him, reveling in the acts of malice and whimsical tyranny she was imposing on him and the rest. The same calm feeling from the battle exam settled over him. If this was her terms, than so be it. An Astartes faced and overcame all obstacles encountered in battle, and so would he. He stepped into the ring, raising his gauntleted fists in the basic stance of the style Mnemoch had drilled into him and his fellow cohorts.

 

“Well! Facing me without fear, that earns you a few points certainly. Now, let’s see how you manage…”

 

She struck without warning, his hands barely able to move to deflect the daggers coming at his hips and neck as he took a step back, trying to maneuver to her side. She countered with her own deft positioning, the same dagger continuing to seek his throat as the other flipped in her hand for an upward strike at his chest. This time he had to cross his arms together to blunt the blow, the carapace armor on his gauntlets letting off a brief shriek as the blades slid across it. Again he took a step back, trying to find a moment of respite.

 

She wasn't giving it to him though, and in the furor of the battle he realized she wasn’t holding back nearly as much as she had been with everyone else. He knew of course that she must have been doing so - there was no way any of them at this moment in time could face one of the dreaded eldar in single combat and even hope to survive, but against him she was moving at the same pace she had been towards the end of Momo’s fight - but right off the bat.

 

“Stop thinking so much!” A second uppercut strike nearly carved his face in twain before he ducked to the side by instinct.

 

“Come on!” His first attempt at a counter with a straight jab to where her kidneys would be on a human was caught by her knee rising to meet it and continuing past to land right in his stomach, forcing a grunt from him as he pushed her away in a sudden surge of instinctive movement. He hissed as one of her spiked arm guards stabbed into his arm near the elbow joint. She disengaged and stared at him, whirling the daggers around again. When she spoke it was a sibilant hiss, pitched only for him to hear.

 

“I was looking forward to breaking you after this, you know.” She dove forward again, feinting a double stab before kneeing him again in the exact same spot. “But now I think I’ll just cut you down right here and now in front of all of them, watch their faces fill with despair as I toy with you to your death. You’ll be a good lesson for them. The price of hubris.” She followed up with an overhand slash at his shoulder with one dagger as the other made to pincer him from the side at his own kidney, forcing him to make a choice of where to be hit with no chance of escape.

 

White hot fury filled him, and he seized it and channeled it into his legs, diving forward in a tackle that forced her to abort her own strikes and twist to the side as he tumbled and whirled back up, charging back into her space.

 

“Oh, did that strike a nerve? Did I upset the little asta-”

 

Her right hand was scything almost lazily forward towards his lung, and it was at that moment he struck, his left arm whipping out to grab her by the wrist. Her own hubris had finally cost her, her momentum nowhere near as fast as it had been, her mocking speech slowing her just enough for him to take advantage. She had just enough time to to turn her eyes from his hand around hers to meet his own glare when his right fist shot forward like a bolter round straight into her jaw.

 

The blow was enough to send her sprawling onto her back due to the awkward stance he’d forced her into. She sprung back up, and for a brief second he thought he had actually caused her to try and murder him before she took a deep breathe and began to laugh, wildly and madly.

 

“You see that, mon’keigh? He’s not all words after all!”

 

She kept cackling even as Izuku kept his hands up, the stab wound on his arm aching but unwilling to let it slow him down just in case. She sheathed her knives and raised her hands.

 

“No no, you most certainly pass. Only a minute, but you actually landed a full hit and even knocked me down. That’s more than anyone else did. I really may just come to respect you, Midoriya-mon’keigh.”

 

She gestured for him to join the others and gave another smile, this one the softest she’d shown yet, which was still not saying much.

 

“Well done, I suppose. You all rendered a pass. Oh, and I wasn’t actually going to claim the lowest ranker. Nezu would have my head if I did that! But it certainly motivated you all, hrm?”

 

She gestured airily back at the looming structure of the facility and their ‘classroom’.

 

“Anyone who needs it go see the medicae than head back to your training room. You’ll have the distinct pleasure of meeting another of your instructors. And don’t worry. You’ll be seeing me again. I teach dueling and critical observation lessons, and sometimes I deign to teach a little bit about my lovely cousins. Go on, go on. You’ll do yourselves no good trying to bore a hole in me with your glares.”

 

With their spirits greatly raised, the assembled 1-A began making their way back, most everyone crowding around Izuku as he made his way over to them.

 

“Throne on Terra that was amazing Izuku!”

 

“I honestly thought she was going to murder you there at the end. Not that we’d have let it happen without a fight.”

 

“Fething right, kasrkin. After that sort of badass? You definitely proved you aren’t just talk Midoriya.”

 

“I told you guys my bro was manly!”

  
Izuku allowed the words of praise to wash over him, his spirits bolstered knowing that he had not only been victorious, but that once again he’d managed to help his teammates forge more bonds with each other. Midnight’s words rang in his mind. They _would_ be facing terrors and evil, the worst the enemies of mankind could muster. They could not falter, quail, or break. And he would be by their sides every step of the way. He swore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I just wanna shill for a bit, and encourage folks to check out Epsillon110's discord (where you can find/talk about his works of fiction and some cool stuff by folks like Titus621 of What's In a Hoard fame) at https://discord.gg/5pjUyUt
> 
> I post there too and you can talk to me about Bonfires if you like it, and also find other neat BNHA fanfic and such.
> 
> Shill mode over! (this is all optional of course you can just enjoy Bonfires if you're just here for that, and I again hope you do enjoy it! It's a labor of love.)


	5. Foundations Laid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Midnight's training, Izuku steps up, and a mission is issued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah. I know. It's been an age. Life sucks and then you lose the drive to write. But hey, we're back. There's a lot of talking again. I promise action will happen. Eventually.

The rest of the first official day went by swiftly. After the shock and tension of sparring against the Drukhari, lessons about proper paperwork and hive customs were positively boring. Izuku made an effort to remain as diligent as possible, of course, as was only proper, but even he felt his mind slipping back to those moments in the ring. The adrenaline pouring through his veins, the way each swipe of Midnight’s blades had arced through the air as if in slow motion. Was that how it felt for anyone who had faced war? Or was it perhaps the beginnings of what he might experience daily as a full Marine, augmented and enhanced through holy geneseed into a living weapon against His enemies?

 

The final bell tolled, signalling that classes were over. A general sigh of relief arose from the Guard contingent as the group as a whole rose, chatter emerging. Izuku was glad to see the beginnings of cross-factionalization occurring, the unblinking visage of Tsuyu approaching the taciturn Todoroki and striking up a series of blunt but polite questions about naval paperwork and its difference to Guard memos, while Mina and Kiri began peppering Fumi about his marksmanship, the avian xenos apparently happy to boast of his own skill at the art. A bit of movement from his side made Izuku turn, Uraraka at his side. She gave a small smile.

 

“Don’t tell the instructors, but I’m glad it's all over. I never was very good at Administratum duties.”

 

He gave a small chuckle in return. “If you were, you’d be in the Administratum itself, not in your Order. I feel the same. I understand the need for order and regulation, but I prefer the strategy table to the office desk.”

 

“Diligence!” The booming voice of Tenya spoke up, approaching from the other side as 1-A made its collective way to the dorm. “One must take care always to perform to the utmost. Thousands can be lost from a single missed report!”

 

“While true, that does not mean all who perform the task are suited to it, Iida.”

 

The commissarial cadet put his hand to his chin, mulling the counterpoint over.

 

“I see your point. Perhaps we should endeavor to identify the natural skillsets of our fellows past their profession, so as to better build cohesion.”

 

Izuku grinned. “Exactly! That’s the spirit, Iida. The better we know ourselves, the better we can leverage our resources in His service. Being the Inquisition means, I think, that we must learn that a degree of forward thinking is not merely allowable, but needed to combat the foes we’ll face.”

 

The other man nodded, his glasses gleaming in the setting sun. “I shall make a project of it. Thank you for the encouragement, hon- Midoriya.”

 

“Not at all. And please, you don’t need to be so formal if you don’t want to.”

 

Uraraka was the one to shake her head at that. 

 

“Izuku, I think training and living as you have has made you a bit inured to the reality of what you are. Most of us have never _seen_ an Astartes, much less lived and trained under them in preparation of becoming one. It’s a heavy thing.”

 

Izuku slowed slightly, considering her words. It was true that, despite his proper veneration of his teachers, he was perhaps among the acolytes present most inured to the sheer awe that was His angels. Perhaps to so cavalierly shrug the attention off was in fact an insult in its own right?

 

“Your words ring true, Ochako. I must pay closer attention to the reality of who I am. Thank you for this revelation.”

 

She shook her head, a smile slowly appearing in her visage. “You are most welcome, Izuku. It leads me to the next thing I wanted to bring up, in fact. You as well, Iida.”

 

The cadet quirked his head, Izuku turning slightly to give the statuesque woman his full attention. Her tone and body language told him this was something important.

 

She nodded after a moment, gesturing ahead to the other acolytes. 

 

“We need a commander. It is the natural affair of things for there to be a hierarchy, and for a group of people this large in the service of what we are, it is even more imperative. Lord Nezu has chosen quite a few individuals that might take the role, but only one naturally appears in my mind.”

 

Iida nodded as well, his thoughts obviously aligning with whatever the Sister was thinking. Izuku calmly resigned himself to what she was going to say next.

 

“...You need to be our leader, Izuku.”

 

He spoke up after a moment more of thought, not willing to reject the statement but not yet willing to accept.

 

“Beyond the awe of who taught me, what gives you cause to select me? Sero is a kasrkin, trained in command of elite squads. Todoroki is a naval officer, who at minimum commands hundreds. Yaoyorozu is the scion of a Rogue Trader - leadership will have been ingrained in her since birth. Iida here is a commisarial cadet, no doubt a good portion of his schooling has been how to wrest control of the most broken of men. I, on the other hand, have never lead - indeed, for most of my training I have _followed_ orders, not given them.”

 

Iida was the one to speak next, chopping his arms forward at Izuku even as he shook his head.

 

“I am humbled by your words, but there is a core difference. Of those you name, including myself, none have _shown_ that command. During the mock conflict, Sero submitted himself to Aoyama as per Guard protocols, despite it being a prime chance for him to take command from battlefield experience. Todoroki is a taciturn man who seems to show little interest in knowing more than our names...no doubt a side effect as you say of having a subordinate roster of hundreds in his time aboard a vessel. Yaoyorozu likewise has shown no fervor. And I, much to my shame, was merely passing at the matters of my post that involve leading. In contrast, Mido- Izuku, you have stepped forward not once but thrice before our fellows.”

 

Izuku raised an eyebrow. “Thrice?”

 

Ochako took up the speech. “He’s right. During the entrance skirmish, you were the one who rallied the defenders after the blessed Knight took its first shot during the fray, to say nothing of your challenging the princeps. And during the xenos’ attempts to demoralize and harry us, you stood fast and expressed your faith in our ability, which everyone naturally looked to repay without thought. I’m...not sure where Iida is getting the third though.”

 

“The first night. It was a more subtle form, but I noticed it. Whose idea was it to form the circle and make introductions, rather than allow like to merely mingle with like?”

 

"Yaoyorozu was the one to initiate the idea, not I."

 

"Correct, but it was your presence that finally inspired it to occur. Before you entered the dorm, everyone had stayed within their own bands."

 

Ochako made a small noise of understanding even as Izuku allowed his eyes to narrow in contemplation. Both she and Iida were right, as it happened. Izuku couldn’t really place why, each time, he had done what he did. It had simply felt natural at each moment. A memory surfaced, of a conversation he’d had once with Captain Sinon of the 9th Company.

 

* * *

 

_The air was thick with grime and dust, sound of bolter and lasfire rippling in the distance. Izuku was sat upon a bench looking down at the sparring grounds, having just completed his own set against his assigned competition. A great shadow fell over him, and he beheld the form of an Ultramarine in full armor, battle-honors upon his chest in the form of sigils and seals. He rose at once, presenting as picture-perfect a chapter salute as he could manage in his fatigue. The figure paused a moment, then responded in kind, reaching up to remove his helmet. A fair-featured face was revealed, a single small scar on the jaw drawing Izuku’s eye by its presence._

 

_“Ave, aspirant.”_

 

_“Ave!” To be addressed by such a figure was its own honor, and so Izuku made sure to thrust his greeting forward despite the pain his lungs shrieked at him. The marine laughed._

 

_“Fine lungs. You just finish your sets?”_

  
  
_“Indeed, sir. I await the rankings, then I am due at the range fields.”_

 

_“Good lad.” The marine squinted slightly, though the light of Telasa Sol was not nearly bright enough to blind such a warrior. “I recognize you now. You’re the one Toshinori took under his wing, aren’t you? Midoriya.”_

 

_“I’m honored to have my name known by you, sir, just as I am honored to receive the guidance of the Chaplain. I am Midoriya, yes.”_

 

_“No wonder you’re still standing after the tribus. He probably runs you ragged even more than Antilochus does, and on top of that old taskmaster’s training too.” The marine carefully took a seat upon a boulder nearby, looking down at the sparring rings._

 

_Izuku took a moment to think over his words before replying. “It is a great honor to receive the attentions of any Astartes, but especially one so renowned as brother Toshinori. I must prove myself worthy to stand not just as a neophyte, but as one so chosen.”_

 

_The marine nodded, still not looking at Izuku. “A good statement. We’ll see if you can back it up. Tell me, aspirant, what do you see down there?”_

 

_Izuku shaded his eyes to gaze down at the pits. Jhor, a group-mate was up against Ilax, from a training camp on a different continent. He said as such to the marine, who nodded._

 

_“That’s one of yours then. He’s winning. Why is that?”_

 

_Izuku studied the match, mind racing. Jhor was not bigger than his foe, nor was he possessed of the same stamina in truth. But he was using a similar form to the one Izuku had used against his own opponents, who had also all been larger than he was._

 

_“He’s using a better form, one made to be used against enemies larger than oneself.”_

 

_“That’s right. I know that form, because I’ve seen Toshinori use it to rip an Ork’s arm clean off. Which means he taught it to you. Now why is this Jhor using it, then?”_

 

_Izuku was sure by now that this marine was testing him, perhaps as some sort of extension of the day’s trials. Again, he took his time, analyzing every possible reason._

 

_“...he saw me use it?”_

 

_“Not the only option, but the simplest and thus most likely. Which means he saw fit to emulate you.”_

  
_  
__“Having seen me win in similar circumstances, that only seems natural."_

 

_“Mayhaps, but it means that on some level he deemed you worthy of emulation.” The marine rolled his shoulder, standing again and turning to look at Izuku directly. “Do you know what one of the most basic truths of leadership is, aspirant?”_

 

 _“No_ _sir_. _”_

 

_“It’s that men must look to you in times of need. All good leaders make this a fact, but the best do not need to make an effort. They inspire that guidance by dint of their existence. Your group-mates are emulating you, aspirant. Is that because they just want to win and saw you do so, or is it more? Time will tell.” The marine put his helmet back on, some unheard sign beckoning him elsewhere. “Next time you see Toshinori, tell him Captain Sinon says hello.”_

 

_Izuku snapped another salute out by instinct, the shock of who he had spoken to driving his body ahead of his mind “Yes sir!”_

 

* * *

 

At the time, Izuku had not put that much thought into what the captain had said, reasoning that Jhor and the others were simply making good use of tactics. But now that he reviewed over what Ochako and Iida were saying he had to concede there was something to it, the fact he had so naturally moved to increase 1-A’s cohesion and faith in themselves, and so forth.

 

 _‘The best leaders inspire by existing’_ , Sinon had said. Who was Izuku to deny his comrades’ faith in him?

 

“Very well, you’re both speaking sense. Assuming no one contests, I shall announce my intention to serve as 1-A’s commander this evening during our free hours.”

 

Both of the others smiled in approval, and he gave a small chuckle in response

 

“Now, let us catch up with the others, otherwise we’ll be left with nothing but scraps from the mess!”

 

The solemn mood broke as the others nodded, Iida’s own stomach letting a small growl out that the normally reserved man grew flustered attempting to play off.

 

* * *

 

Entering the dorm commons, Izuku took note that the increased level of camaraderie he had noticed before during 1-A’s walk back was developing further. Sero and Kendou had managed to rope Jirou into their conversation on lasrifle models, the techpriest all too happy to extol the virtues of this model over that model. Koda was in some sort of deep discussion with Yaoyorozu, the xenos clearly passionate about some subject that both had a shared knowledge of. He nodded to himself. He could work with this.

 

“If I might have everyone’s attention.”

 

 He pitched his voice just enough to carry through the room, and was pleased to note that his intended effect was almost immediate, every head turning at least a touch as conversations quieted down. It was certainly a good start to what he was going to say next.

 

“After the trials we have been through today, it has become apparent that we are all skilled operatives in our various fields. However, as we will sooner or later be asked to face the worst of mankind’s enemies, it stands to reason we must establish certain protocols. Chiefly, command.”

 

The guardsmen all nodded in various degrees of understanding, and after a moment so did Kiri, Mina, Shouji and Hagakure. He’d expected that, hivers would of course understand the concept of a ‘chief’ or ‘boss’. Todoroki and Yaoyorozu made no motion but to narrow their eyes slightly. Strangely enough, the two xenos seemed to make slightly approving motions as well. The techpriests and psykers were silent.

 

After a moment, Todoroki spoke up. “I take it you are putting yourself forward.”

 

“Should you have me, yes. The burden of command must go to someone, and I feel I am able to shoulder it.”

 

“A bold statement. Have you ever lead before? Taken the lives of other men into your hands?” Todoroki’s tone was low and questioning.

 

“Hey! He was the one that shoved all that xeno’s drek back into her prissy face. I think he’d make a good boss.” Kiri, enthusiastic as ever, spoke up in his defense.

 

“Battlefield rallying is not the same as leadership. But there is something to be said for natural charisma, it’s true.” Yaoyorozu spoke up, her own tone not dismissive or challenging, but more considering.

 

Izuku turned his eyes back to Todoroki and his questions. “I have not ever lead formally nor have I received training in such matters no, but I have in the heat of a battle rallied men before many times. The entrance skirmish, as Kirishima can attest, and before during my time as an aspirant.”

 

“That’s a far cry from being able to take command in general.”

 

“I’m gonna disagree.” Sero was the one to interject next. “No offense, Todoroki, but groundpounding like what we’re probably gonna get stuck into really is nine tenths that sort of ‘Get it together’. Midoriya here has that spark. Feth, look at just now when he called for this little discussion. We all dropped our stuff and paid attention like we were at parade. You ask me, Midoriya’s perfect for the job. You need someone able to,” He snapped his fingers a few times. “Think fast and make calls. All the strategy in the world can’t teach you that.”

 

Ojiro and Jirou looked at each for a few moments, then the former took a step forward.

 

“He has shown himself willing to listen and learn from those who possess knowledge he does not. This is a logical thing. We second Midoriya as commander.”

 

Itsuka gave a thumbs up from behind Sero, as did Tsuyu. 

 

“Same here. He’s already started, why not make it official?”

 

Koda and Fumi were next, the avian deferring to the Tau, who spoke softly.

 

“From his training to his deeds, he would make a fine Shas’vre. Our own support means little, but I would implore you to listen for the greater good of this group.”

 

Todoroki looked around the room, seeing less and less possible supporters of his own. Izuku went for the final strike, gambling that other man was not so power-hungry as to fly in the face of reason. 

 

“Should we ever come into a scenario where your expertise is needed, I will gladly take your counsel as a primary influence upon my decisions.”

 

The two-toned man gazed at him for a long while. “I’m not a fool. The others believe in you, and so I will as well. Don’t make me regret this.”

 

Izuku held out a hand. “I will die before I fail any of you.”

 

Todoroki gave a simple nod as he shook, then stepped back against the wall where he had originally been leaning.

 

“That’s settled. Now what, boss?”

 

 Mina popped up and gave Izuku a wink and a grin.

 

“Dinner, I should think. Unless you all managed to cram a meal down before I walked in the door.” 

 

Izuku began strolling towards the mess, the atmosphere lessening once again into a sort of casual air overtook the dorm again. A few others were doing the same.

 

“Ha! Well, Kiri probably could.”

 

“Hey! That’s rich comin’ from ‘Motormouth Mina’” Said man pointed accusingly at his compatriot as the two began bickering good naturedly.

 

“Is no shame in eating fast. Must eat when you can, else you starve.”

 

The rich baritone of Satou came from Izuku’s other shoulder, the giant of a man patting his stomach as he and Tsuyu jogged up.

 

“He’s right. Eat and sleep whenever possible, or you’re only going to suffer on the battlefield.” The blunt woman said.

 

“I take it most guardsmen have similar views?” Izuku asked.

 

“Most. Some types are better about it than others. I bet Aoyoma doesn't view wolfing down a ration pack as something to be proud of.”

 

“Praetorians! Very brave. Too posh though. Spend more time at mirror than at range!” 

 

Satou guffawed as the group entered the mess, Aoyama himself sat at a bench eating a richly aromatic grox steak. The blonde harrumphed as he overheard the comment, making exaggerated sniffing noises.

 

“Coming from those who view _hot alcohol_ as the pinnacle of luxury, I shall be generous and not take offense.”

 

The words held no bite, and indeed the man smiled as the others took their seats. Izuku was quite famished, and so he took what was for him his usual affair. Three steaks and a generous helping of the greens available, eager to take advantage of the relative luxury of real food when he could. As the general sounds of eating filled the air, he felt a small poke at his side. It was Hagakure, still in her full body suit, staring at his plates.

 

“You eat a _lot_. More than Kiri and Mina both, even.”

 

Izuku blushed a bit. “I’ve always been a big eater. My training just made it more evident.”

 

“Given what Sero was saying about your exercise this morning, I’ll believe it.”

 

Sero let out an exaggerated groan as he took a seat.

 

“Don’t remind me. I thought Kasrkin trained like madmen. And from what the CO here implied, all his other trainees are like that.”

 

“All aspirants must push themselves beyond human limits. But...for a few reasons, I push myself even harder.”

 

The expression on the others’ faces belied an open curiosity, and Izuku decided that, in the interest of cohesion, he could afford to say this much. “I had a...mentor who had taken an interest in me. Such a thing is rare, so I make sure to try and live up to his faith in me.”

 

Nods followed, the assembled men and women accepting his words.

 

“Well, if you’ve caught the attention of a particular Astartes, then that just makes our choice of you as leader even wiser,” Yaoyorozu said. “I have been blessed enough to meet a few, and they have to a one been exceptional individuals even accounting for being Astartes.”

 

That drew Izuku’s attention. 

 

“Really? If you would be so kind, I should love to hear of them when we have time.”

 

“But of course, it would be my pleasure.” She gave a kind smile as she sipped from a bowl of rich looking soup.

 

Izuku turned his attention back to his food, cleaning his plate quickly as the others by common consensus did the same. After finishing and depositing his plates for the servitors to clean, he rolled his neck a few times.

 

“I’m going to go to the gymnasium for a few last routines before I retire, if anyone else is interested.”

 

A small groan arose from the Guard group, with Yaoyorozu and Hagakure shaking their own heads.

 

“I don’t think I can even _think_ about training right now. I concede, Midoriya.” Kendou gave him a weak smile as she shrugged.

 

“No, no. Do not feel shame. I was merely gauging interest. I shall see you all in the morning.”

 

He got a round of friendly nods and waves as he strolled out of the mess and turned towards where the wall-mounted cogitators displayed the gymnasium as being located. As he neared the facility, he could hear the sounds of equipment moving, and took a look at who he would be sharing the time with.

 

It was Uraraka, at the moment he walked in performing a set of chin ups on a high bar. She was wearing only a regulation tank top and a pair of loose uniform pants, for her robes were obviously not suitable exercise clothing, and he could not help but observe her form. Every inch of her he could see was sculpted and sleek, muscles on her arms and back straining as she lifted her self with exacting precision over and over. It took his breath away for a moment, to see someone mortal so fit as to rival he and what he knew his fellow aspirants aspired towards. Truly, he thought, the Sororitas really could claim to stand aside the Astartes if this was what they were like in their dedication to defending mankind.

 

The noise of the door opening drew her attention, and she dropped and gave a wave, skin glistening from her exertions.

 

“Izuku! I shouldn’t be surprised. Here for an evening set?”

 

“Indeed. My apologies for interrupting you.”

 

“Not at all, I’d only just begun my own. I didn’t get a chance to complete a morning workout, so I’m making up for it now.” 

 

She gave him an encouraging smile.

 

“If you wish, we can work together. For spotting the weights, if nothing else.”

 

He returned the gesture.

 

“I would be honored.”

 

He set about preparing himself, divesting down to a pair of pants and no shirt as he took a spot on the mats.

 

“Pushups and crunches first, then we shall move to weights. I’d suggest you take a breather then while I complete my chins, and after we can discuss what next.”

 

She nodded and joined him as he began his set, matching him evenly throughout his entire set. His respect for her rose even higher, and eventually they began weights. As he stood above her ready to catch the bar, he could not help but notice that in addition to her fit form, she was graced with a very...generously feminine appearance as well. Then he caught the direction his eyes and thoughts were taking and lambasted himself. Uraraka was a warrior, a daughter of the emperor, and a comrade. To reduce her to her appearance was shameful, even if only for a moment. Still, a treacherous part of his mind insisted, she was doubly blessed for her prowess in battle and her comely form as well, and surely there was nothing wrong with such a dutiful and righteous woman being the epitome of the human form in all ways?

 

He shook himself. Regardless of the propriety or lack thereof, now was a time of training, not...whatever his thoughts were at the moment. He noticed she too had slowed, looking up at him curiously.

 

“Is something wrong, Ochako?”

  
  
“No, not really. It’s just the first time I’ve seen someone not a fellow novitiate or sister match me. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Your training must exceed mine by a large margin.”

 

He laughed. “Actually, I was thinking the same thing. All I have heard of the Sororitas seems true. Dedication, skills, unwavering faith. Your order should be proud you are here to represent them.”

 

She turned her head to the side, and Izuku thought he caught the beginnings of an actual blush. Was such praise not something such a paragon was used to?

 

“I...thank you for your belief in me. I will!” She suddenly doubled her efforts, catching him a touch off guard as the currently 150kg bar began jumping up and down. “Do my best! To live up to it!”

 

He gave her a grin and nodded down. “We both will. That is what it means to be a comrade.”

 

Anything further she might have said was interrupted by the laudhailer crackling to life.

 

**“Attention, Acolyte Group 1-A. Report to Office 316 within 30 minutes.”**

 

Uraraka set the bar aside and sat up, wiping her brow, expression serious. Izuku nodded gravely.

 

“That sounds important. We should hit the refreshers quickly and report.”

 

“Mmhm. Perhaps it’s an assignment?”

 

“Something vital enough to require the entire group report on accelerated notice, at any rate.”

 

* * *

 

25 minutes later, the two were stood before Office 316, a simple unassuming thing a distance away from the main facilities, smack in the middle of an otherwise mundane hab block. Izuku was dressed in his armor, Uraraka having donned her novitiate robes. He was pleased to see the entirety of 1-A was already present, and that they were all in acceptable dress, if not full kit.

 

“Anyone got an idea of what this is? Ah! Boss!” Kiri threw him a wave as he and Ochako came into view.

 

“It didn’t sound emergency urgent, at least.” Sero spoke up, the kasrkin also in his armor.

 

“Be prepared. It may simply be related to the unorthodox training session today. It may be something more serious.” Izuku said as he took a final headcount and nodded. “Let us report.”

 

He opened the room and allowed the others to file in, the room inside empty of anything save a desk and chair before them all, with enough room for the group to fit, if close to one another. Kaminari and Shinsou both hissed as they entered, the blonde psyker clutching his head as the other clutched his staff tightly. Izuku glanced over.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“It hurts...it isn’t natural. It’s _empty_.”

 

“As my companion says, Midoriya. It is achingly painful, but we shall endure.”

 

The reactions from the psykers had not gone unnoticed, and there was a nervous shuffling as the chair swiveled around to reveal...a man. He was dressed in a black sleeveless bodysuit, a sort of scarf or cloak around his shoulders, bandages around his arms. But what unsettled Izuku the most was the aura the man seemed to emit, the entire room falling silent as one as he revealed himself. He caught Todoroki and Jirou from the corner of his eye shuddering, a reaction it seemed was spreading through the group. There was a sort of niggling feeling in his mind, his eyes having difficulty staying on the man in black.

 

“1-A, reporting as ordered, sir!”

  
  
The sudden bark seemed to break whatever stupor had befallen his fellows, a sense of warmth and color returning to the room. He caught a few grateful smiles before Sero and Uraraka both snapped a salute, the rest following suit.

 

“So you have, and so crisply, too. Impressive, I suppose.” The words were droning and monotonous, the man staring directly at Izuku, who had taken a step forward in front.

 

“My name is not important, Izuku Midoriya. You can refer to me as Eraser. Lord Nezu has decided that, due to exemplary reports from your field training, you and 1-A have been selected for a mission. You should consider this an extraordinary recognition of your potential...should you survive.”

 

It was with a sense of pride that Izuku noticed not a single murmur emerged from behind him as he nodded.

  
“We are honored by the faith shown in us. What is this mission?”

 

“In this star system, as you should know, there are four planets. Musutafu, Hosu, Ferish, and Malach. Your mission will be taking you to Ferish. It is, by all accounts, a simple agriworld, the entire surface dedicated to farms and ranches so as to feed the rest of the system. That is what is reported to the administratum, and it is in fact also true.”

 

Eraser paused, making a motion under his desk as a holo of Ferish appeared in front of them all.

 

“However, there is another reason Ferish is important. Deep in the north of the planet there is a mountain range, where a few small mines eke out what they can to ensure the area is not wasted. One of these mines is considered by Lord Nezu to be of particular importance, and so he ensures an eye is kept upon it. Recently, the output of the mine has fallen below acceptable levels, and communications through normal channels are suspiciously lacking in this fact. Thus, you are being sent to determine the cause of this shortage, and take whatever steps are necessary to correct the issue. You are _not_ to openly flaunt Lord Nezu’s authority. This task must be taken in such a manner as to raise no eyebrows. Consider that part of the test. A transport will be landing tomorrow evening to ferry you to Ferish’s main port. From there you will meet an agent of ours that will arrange your transport to the mountain range’s central town. After that, you are on your own. Dismissed.”

 

The man dropped his eyes to the paperwork upon the desk, an obvious extra step to the dismissal. Izuku saluted crisply and turned to facilitate the groups’ exit. Once they were all outside, he gave a small sigh.

 

“What was _that_? Felt like I couldn’t breathe right.”

 

“More like you couldn’t think right. Hard to look at the guy.”

 

“First xenos, now whatever that was? Lord Nezu sure has some weird servants.”

 

The chattering was quiet but consistent, and he saw little use trying to quell it all. Better to let it out as they headed towards their bunks. Ochako, Sero and Shinsou drew near him, expressions varyingly grim.

 

“First thoughts?” Izuku asked.

  
  
“Nothing good. Any number of reasons why this mine isn’t up to snuff. Guess that’s why we’re being sent.” Sero replied.

 

“That we as a whole should be sent speaks to something as well. Though this be a test, we cannot relax while undertaking it.” Shinsou said, his staff tapping gently as they walked.

 

“He’s right. If it was just checking in on a lazy foreman, or local criminals, surely a squad would suffice.” Ochako said from Izuku’s other side.

 

He nodded in response to each.

 

“My thoughts exactly. We have shown ourselves to be apparently so competent as to be assigned this task, and no matter what faces us we cannot fail. But that does not mean we should not be cautious. For now, we should rest and prepare. I’m sure you and the guardsmen will want to visit the armory before we board the transport tomorrow.” He gestured at Sero, who nodded in the affirmative before breaking off to mention that fact to the others.

  
Izuku cast his eyes skyward, out into the night sky of the hive. Somewhere out there was Ferish, and whatever lay in wait for him and his people. He clenched his fist. They _would_ be equal to the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna shill for a bit, and encourage folks to check out Epsillon110's discord (where you can find/talk about his works of fiction and some cool stuff by folks like Titus621 of What's In a Hoard fame) at https://discord.gg/5pjUyUt
> 
> I post there too and you can talk to me about Bonfires if you like it, and also find other neat BNHA fanfic and such.
> 
> Shill mode over! (this is all optional of course you can just enjoy Bonfires if you're just here for that, and I again hope you do enjoy it! It's a labor of love, delayed as it has been.)


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